The Sun Goes With You
by cloverhoney
Summary: Immediately post-war, Sakura is traumatized-she experienced the deaths of those who died when connected to her chakra during the war, including her parents. She accepts a long-term Anbu contract to get out and forget. (Sasuke hasn't seen Sakura in years, not since she left home. Then he finds her in the place he least expects, with startling new power and a new attitude.) Sasusaku.
1. Chapter 1

**_A/N:_** _This is the story that gave birth to Seek, my other fic. So if you've read that and wished it had gone a different direction, well... this one promises to do exactly that.  
_

 _Summary: Immediately post-war, Sakura is barely holding herself together. She relives the deaths of all that she couldn't heal, those who died when connected to her chakra during the war - including her parents. She accepts a long-term ANBU contract to get out, to forget._

 _Sasuke hasn't seen Sakura in years, not since she left home. Then he finds her in the place he least expects to - with startling new power._

 **The Sun Goes With You**

 **Chapter 1 - get out**

 _baby baby baby_

 _when all your love is gone_

 _who will save me_

 _from all i'm up against out in this world_

 _-matchbox 20, bright lights_

 _I have to get out of here._

Sakura was covered in blood. Hot, red, thick, sticky, _angry_ blood. It was burning her skin, burning her nose with its corrosive metallic scent, flowing into her eyes and mouth. Screams grated at her senses, wordless shouts of pain and fear and loss. Her lungs were deflating, her bones were crunching under the weight of falling bodies.

She clapped her hands over her ears and fell to her knees. She repeated simple words to herself, like she did every time she found herself back here - back on the battlefield.

 _This isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't real…._

The blood disappeared, replaced by water so hot that it scalded her. Sakura found herself sitting the floor of her shower, knees pulled to her chest and her arms wrapped around herself, fingernails digging into the skin of her back. She gasped for breath, but it didn't reach her lungs. She squeezed her eyes shut and let the water run over her face.

This too would pass, she knew. It always passed, some way or another. This was a daily occurrence for her since the end of the war. She would see things that weren't there, feel things she couldn't feel, and then come to her senses seconds later feeling like she had been gone for hours, days, weeks.

The war had ended a month ago. Four weeks, thirty days. But she couldn't get out from under it.

She reached out and turned the water cold. She sat in the cold spray until she was shivering violently, her teeth chattering and her fingers shaking, and then she pulled herself out of the shower.

She stared at her naked body in the bathroom mirror. She'd lost more weight - not in a good way, not in the right places - and her eyes were tired, distant. She turned away from the woman in the mirror, unwilling to look at her any longer.

Her hands gripped the edge of her sink as a wave of dizziness came over her, threatening to send her to her floor. Slowly she gave in to the nausea, sinking to her knees, pressing her forehead into the cool tile of the counter.

She stayed this way for nearly two minutes before trying again. This time, she was able to stay standing as she pulled on her clothes. She smiled at her reflection in the mirror and studied herself. She studied her eyes, looking for any warmth - adjusting her lips, the crinkle of her cheeks to make it look more authentic, more welcoming than she felt.

When she was satisfied, she let the smile slide off of her face and into her pocket, to be taken out whenever she needed it.

It was already dark outside when she left her apartment. Her shift started at 7 PM and had no defined end - there was too much work to do. She didn't want to come home, anyway. There was nothing for her at home.

She kept her eyes downcast as she walked through the dark village to the hospital. She didn't want to see the shop windows full of happy displays or the well-kept jacaranda trees on the sidewalks. She just wanted to work.

She let out a sigh of relief as she walked into the hospital. The fluorescent lighting and smell of disinfectant were simple and sterile, bereft of the ability to spark any memories or feeling. She pulled on her white coat and clipped her badge to the collar.

 _Haruno Sakura, Head Medic._ Nurses smiled at her as she began her rounds. She smiled back with the fake smile that she had practiced earlier, letting her eyes say things she didn't feel.

A nurse touched her arm, asking about a patient. The contact made Sakura nauseous.

 _I have to get out of here._

Her first patient was civilian woman and her pre-term twins. All three were recovering well and sleeping - she did not wake them as she checked vitals, labs, coloring. Her second patient took longer - a grouchy old retired nin, admitted for exacerbation of his asthma. He refused to quit smoking. Sakura changed his inhaler, sent him for x rays, and told him to come back if he starting having chest pain.

The evening hours passed this way, in simple routine. It never ceased to amaze her how grateful people were for things that were as difficult for her as tying her shoes - a script for antibiotics, a refill on blood pressure medicine, smooth reassurances that a woman's baby would not die from a case of the sniffles.

She knew why. It was easy to heal someone else; your own afflictions evaded you time after time until they finally got the best of you.

Sakura checked her clipboard and sighed when she saw the name of her next patient. Her easy night had come to an end.

 _Uchiha Sasuke._

Even written, the name sent a flutter across her nervous system.

She still loved him. She loved him so much that it felt almost clinical - a pathology that could be studied, a part of her being that was not supposed to be there but was completely incurable. It was chronic, it was terminal, it was uncorrectable. She would die of it someday - it had very nearly taken her life on more than one occasion.

 _Incurable, indeed,_ she thought to herself as she flipped through the pages of his blood tests. Organ function fine, blood fine. He didn't have high cholesterol - she didn't know why they even tested him for that. He'd been here for a month, since the end of the war, and they kept running new tests on him. Useless - he hated it, she hated it. It had been necessary.

He had accepted the offer of a new arm, grown from Hashirama's cells. This meant he had to stay _here._ It meant that she had to see him every day. The thought made it hard to get out of bed in the mornings. She didn't know what was more afraid of - that he would be there when she opened his door, or that he wouldn't.

Itinerant. That was the best word for him, she decided. She was incurable and he was itinerant.

She pushed open the door to his room.

 _I have to get out of here._

.

.

.

When Sasuke awoke, he knew exactly where he was - a feeling he would never get used to. After so many years of continuous migration, he had grown accustomed to never being quite sure where in the world he would wake up.

But this place was becoming more and more familiar as the weeks passed, much to his chagrin. The four moonlit walls of the Konoha hospital room he was imprisoned in seemed to shrink every night, almost imperceptibly, but closing in on him all the same. The barred window looked out on the destruction that his war had caused - he would never know if they had given him this view on purpose, to remind him of why he was being kept there, but he suspected they had.

Of course, if Sasuke really wanted to leave, there was no room in the world which could contain him. The elders knew it, and his rinnegan pulsed in quiet agreement. But where would he go? He was purposeless, a blank sheet of paper in a breezeless sky. Here, at least, things were interesting. This was where Itachi would want him to stay.

The steady sound of another person's breathing drew Sasuke's eyes to the edge of his bed, although he already knew who he would see there. Haruno Sakura, arms crossed upon her chest and white coat unbuttoned, slept in a chair pushed up against the wall. Even in her sleep, the bags under her eyes were apparent.

Sasuke stretched his arms out experimentally, testing the progress she had made on his new limb that night. He could feel the new vasculature and nerves that were now silently working under the new skin. Certainly, she was almost finished. The new limb was almost imperceptible from its predecessor - even the hairs were the same. There was the smallest of delays in response when Sasuke commanded it to perform, as if his old body and new one refused to speak to each other. But surely that would go away with time - she had promised it would.

This was their arrangement, and as close to friendship as Sasuke could come to someone with whom he was not cosmically linked through repeating souls. Every night, well past midnight, she would quietly let herself into his room and tut disapprovingly when she found he was still awake. She would drag a chair to his bedside, roll up her sleeves, and settle into her work. She rarely spoke to him, except to ask him questions about his arm. Her concentration was a mighty, unshakeable thing - Sasuke wondered if she would even hear him if he attempted to speak.

However, his new arm was not the only gift she gave him. Each night, not long after her chakra first flowed into him, a pervading feel of peacefulness would wash over his mind and lull him into a dreamless sleep. He knew that this was her doing, that she poured her own calmness into him for his sake.

He had become addicted to it, in a way. For as long as he could remember, nightmares had plagued him every night - but as long as she was touching him, the ghosts of his family dared not rouse him. He felt nothing, thought of nothing. He would be this way for hours as she worked.

But as soon as that thread of peace was broken, the ghosts came crawling back. And he would wake up, well rested but shaken, to see that she had dragged her chair as far from him as possible to sneak a few moments of undisturbed sleep. Immediately after the war, Tsunade had retired, taking Shizune with her, and left the hospital to Sakura. And a post-world-war hospital was not an easy beast to tame. Yet, she still made the time for her old teammates.

Sasuke was not the only one in the hospital plagued with nightmares, either. The hospital was rife with the screams of men who returned to the battlefield in their dreams every night. He wondered sometimes, for the briefest of seconds, why she did not go to their bedside, to calm them the way she calmed him. But he already knew the answer. He had always known.

She was no exception, herself one of the injured. She saw her own terrors when she closed her eyes. She did not scream or sob like the other patients, but her eyes would fly open, sweat beading on her brow, and her gaze would fix itself on the wall above Sasuke's head. She would stare for several minutes before silently taking her leave, venturing back out into the well-lit hallways of the hospital, where she was so desperately needed.

Sasuke gave her no indication that he saw those episodes, and she never spoke of it. But she must have known.

Tonight, she was peaceful. He eyed the clock; dawn was closing in. Someone would be looking for her, surely.

"Sakura," he murmured, his voice permeating the silent room.

She stirred briefly before her eyes snapped open. There was no need to wipe sleepiness from her eyes; it was not there. "Sasuke. Is everything alright?"

"It's late," he shrugged.

She rubbed her forehead with her palm, lingering on the diamond-shaped seal on her brow. "I didn't mean to sleep so long."

No, she never did. Her voice was tinged with an apology, as if Sasuke would begrudge her the extra moments of sleep she could steal from the hospital. He never did.

He waited for her to stand up and apologize once more before leaving, as was their routine. But she didn't. She leaned forward in her chair, her elbows on her knees and her fingertips pressed together.

"I have news," she said carefully.

Sasuke didn't respond. He knew he did not need to - she would tell him anyway.

"I would have told you earlier," she continued in his silence, an obvious nervousness pervading her words. "But you looked so tired, so I just -"

"Sakura," he cut her off. He knew she was stalling, and it made him uneasy - her news was never good, and he would prefer her to just get it over with. "Get to the point."

She sighed. "Your arm is finished, Kakashi has signed off on your release, the council found you an empty apartment. You're being discharged."

Her words caught Sasuke by surprise - he had been expecting her news to be of the sort that made his gut twist. More Konoha shinobi succumbing to the wounds inflicted by the war, or dead of post-war reconnaissance missions. But this news… this was good, wasn't it?

"Say something," Sakura murmured, and Sasuke glanced at her. Her green eyes held no emotion that Sasuke could place. They were searching him for something, although he could never figure out what.

"So I can go?" he asked, only to quell her.

"In the morning."

He nodded and looked out the window at the remnants of his village. Tomorrow, he could go. He could… what? Everything that had been his life until this exact moment was now useless. There was no one to take revenge on, no one to run from or run to. No unattainable standard of power that he had to live up to.

"Sasuke."

"Huh?" he murmured, distracted.

"You'll be okay," she said gently. He looked at her, surprised; somehow, after all these years, she knew what he was thinking.

She reached a hand out to him, as if to touch his shoulder reassuringly, but the gesture never settled. Her hand stopped halfway to him and then the gesture died; her hand returned to her lap.

The tension was painful.

Sakura cleared her throat. "Another doctor will come by in the morning to sign you out, and a nurse will assist you in the exercises you need to do to become accustomed to your new arm."

"You won't do it?" he asked her, apprehensive. He did not relish the thought of some skittish nurse, afraid of the rumors she'd heard about him, trying to teach him to use his own arm. Better to have someone who could at least touch him without shuddering.

She did not answer immediately. Her gaze became slightly glazed, focused just to the left of his eyes. After a moment, she responded. "No, I… I have somewhere I need to be."

He frowned. Here was where she needed to be. The hospital. But he did not push her.

She finally stood, the chair squeaking back across the floor. Again, there was hesitation. He turned to look at her, expectant; she was not one to keep her concerns quiet.

But she did not do what he was expecting.

"Take care of yourself, Sasuke," she murmured, and the softness in her eyes, the gentleness in her expression, rendered him speechless.

Sakura turned to leave, her white coat fluttering as the door closed behind her. He stared after her, half expecting her to turn right around and come back.

She didn't.

He would lose count of the years before he saw her again.

* * *

A/N: Thanks so much for reading! If you liked this, and want to see it continue, please leave a review. Unfortunately I do not continue review-less stories as the motivation just isn't there for me, haha. Stay safe out there, everyone!


	2. Snow

**The Sun Goes With You**

 **Chapter 2 - Snow**

 _i never thought of running_

 _my feet just led the way_

 _-bright eyes, if the brake man turns my way_

 _ **four years later**_

Sakura was balanced atop a tree branch in a forest nearly six hundred miles from Konoha. Her current mission had brought her back within the borders of Fire Country - it was closer to her old home than she'd been in months.

She removed her Anbu mask - a crimson and cream bear - and squinted up at the sky. It was late evening; the sun had receded and deep blue was darkening across the horizon.

The sky growled, threatening rain, and she sighed back at it, as if to say _I'm not afraid of you, but I wish you wouldn't._

Of course, her request went ignored. If anything was going to be considered the grand theme of her life, then this would be it: ignored pleas. The rain came down in sheets and she frowned at the clouds from her perch in the tree - the coming hours had threatened to be miserable enough already, even without this downpour. _Rude._

Her dark clothes were soaked through quickly, sticking uncomfortably to her skin. The grey vest gained another fifteen pounds of water weight, but she did not move. Her eyes adjusted to the watery veil that was drowning the forest, and her nose began to detect the scents that had been masked by wet earth. The rainfall on the leaves provided feeble cover to more pressing sounds: footsteps, labored breathing, a pounding heartbeat.

People.

This far into forest, there would be no civilians. There was no path to follow, and the only thing in any direction for hundreds of miles was trees, endless and densely packed over the uneven, mossy ground. No civilian would venture this deep into these woods; it had to be a ninja. Sakura was certain it was her target, even through the carelessly masked chakra signature. For someone with as meticulous control of chakra as she, the smallest edges of energy might as well have been a flashing sign: _it's me, I'm your target, I'm here. Kill me._

She was not happy to oblige. But she would do it anyway.

The footsteps were not alone. Two more heartbeats. A three man cell. Predictable, easy. Possible formations ran through her head. Her heart rate increased imperceptibly, her adrenal glands pumping epinephrine into her rushing blood, her pupils dilated. The familiar dread that seeped into her core was quickly silenced. The footsteps were growing steadily closer to her stakeout, dangerously unaware of her presence.

She waited until they were so close they were almost under her. She prepared to jump, her joints anticipating the fall they were about to take. There was the slightest hesitation that she was experiencing more and more lately, catching in her breath.

 _This is real._

The last thing those footsteps and heartbeats saw were emerald eyes, pink hair, and glowing blades of green energy.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

It was springtime in Ice Country, and the Anbu base thawed by precisely one degree.

Morino Ibiki savored that single degree. Treasured it as he sat as in his frigid office, the fire crackling in the wood stove doing nothing to soothe the ache in his aging fingers.

Morino Ibiki was many things. An eskimo, he was not.

A knock came at his door in two short, sharp raps.

"Come in," he barked. If the operative that knocked let so much as a _hint_ of that bone-chilling _spring breeze_ into his office, then he would spatchcock him like a _chicken_.

A masked operative silently slid into his office and approached his desk, dropping a soaking wet scroll in front of him. The mask did little to hide the ninja's identity from his commander - Ibiki was glad to see him alive.

"Found this," the operative said, gesturing to the scroll. "It's got your name on it. No seals or tags or anything. Looks harmless."

The scroll was bound with the telltale white ribbon of a successful mission, with his name written in neat, delicate strokes. And he knew who had left it behind - Ibiki narrowed his eyes at it, as if it might jump up and run off of his desk if he let it sit too long.

He picked it up and rolled the scroll over in his palms, the wet paper sticking to his skin, and he looked up at the operative who had brought it in. It was too early for this - the sun wasn't even entirely up yet. "Where'd you pick it up?"

"Mile out of camp," the operative said, frowning. "Stuck in a tree trunk."

Ibiki raised his eyebrows in surprise. She never came that close, not when she knew he was in the camp. He ran several scenarios through his head - arrogance, failure, injury. But she had never been the arrogant type, she'd never failed a mission, and she certainly couldn't be injured, not when she was a more skilled healer than the fifth hokage herself.

He stood abruptly, his metal chair screeching against the stone floor. The operative flinched, but Ibiki didn't much care. This was his chance.

 _She's here._

"Dismissed," Ibiki barked as he quickly stalked out of his office. "Return to your post immediately."

He hurried across the slushy, icy dirt of the encampment, not bothering to button his flak vest shut to keep the freezing winds at bay. There was no time for comfort, not when she must know that he was coming for her.

He flung open the heavy door of the medic cabin, out of breath. He was not the spry young spring jonin he had once been, but he could still get where he needed to go when a reward was promised.

His efforts were not wasted. Haruno Sakura was there, crouched over a box of medical supplies, stuffing rolls of gauze into small pockets on her vest and into the small duffel she carried with her. She froze when she heard him walk in.

"Haruno," Ibiki puffed, trying not to sound winded.

She slowly turned to face him, and rose to her full, unimpressive height. Her eyes remained guarded, if a little guilty. "Ibiki."

"You slipped up, dropping the scroll so close to the camp. You couldn't evade me forever," he said, and finally buttoned his vest. Damn Ice Country. It would be the death of him - hopefully sooner than later.

"I would never want to evade you," she said sweetly, zipping up her now thoroughly stuffed supply bag and patting her pockets. "But unfortunately, I have new orders. From the hokage, you know, so it's out of my hands. So I'll be heading out."

"I don't think so," he growled, and blocked her from sliding past him out of the cabin. "Do you understand that, as an Anbu operative, I am your commander?"

"Yes, commander-sensei," the girl said sarcastically, and bowed. If it was a little exaggerated, he allowed it to pass without remark. But he did not allow her to pass by him.

"And as an Anbu operative, you have a duty to the organization to alleviate the workload. Especially if you're going to be pilfering supplies," he narrowed his eyes at the rolls of gauze spilled on the floor.

"Ibiki, we have this discussion every time," Sakura sighed, her shoulders drooping ever so slightly. "Can we skip it for now? I'm in a hurry."

"I don't ask much of you, Haruno," he said, raising his hands placatingly. "I deliver your reports to the hokage quickly, I sign off on the evaluations you miss, I allow you to pillage my medic's supplies. I don't pry into your business."

"As you shouldn't. It's confidential," she said tartly. She was starting to get snippy; he would have to get to the point.

Her attitude did not bother Ibiki, although it might have when he was a younger man. He had the highest clearance possible - nothing was confidential from him - but he had been instructed not to investigate after her missions, and he didn't. He'd been in the business too long, and every type of directive possible had passed over his desk. Assassinations, undercover work, espionage, even less-than-legal operations - no, Ibiki remained steadfast in his pointed disinterest of the missions she was given. He had never once wanted to peek into the scrolls that she delivered like clockwork.

What Ibiki wanted was to set her loose on some of the more challenging directives that were piling up in his inbox. Missions that returned bodies to him, not successful reports. He had lost - no, Konoha had lost - good men on these missions. More than shinobi. Sons, brothers, fathers, husbands, friends. Zippered inside each body bag was a piece of a family, a puzzle piece that would never be returned to its picture.

But her? A machine. No failed missions, no late reports. A perfect operative (if he didn't count the attitude), protected under Anbu designation, but free from Anbu responsibilities. If she was good enough to be the hokage's own operative, then she was good, period. Maybe she could ease the steady pileup of bodies on his front steps.

He didn't know how she did it. Sure, they said she could match the fifth hokage in any contest, but he privately thought that many of his operatives could do the same. She must have some sort of secret up her sleeve. He didn't begrudge her this - it was smart to have one, and he had a few of his own, even after so many years in the game. He didn't begrudge her this at all - he just wished he could get his hands on it.

However, she wasn't his to command. She was the hokage's. She did not take orders or missions from Ibiki or anyone other than that damned rascal of a copycat ninja hokage.

He drew in a deep breath to steady his frustration. "If you would just look at some of the missions that come across my desk. Take one or two that are on the way to your next one. We're losing operatives faster than they come in. I can't send anyone else home in a body bag."

Her eyes softened, but barely. "What do you think I'm doing out there, Morino? Don't you trust your hokage?"

"Of course I do." And he did. While he didn't think the new hokage was the most serious of the bunch, he was surprisingly competent as a leader. "But you have to understand. The S-rank missions are coming in faster than the Academy can turn out genin. The peacetime after the war is coming to a swift close."

"I know it is," Sakura said wearily. She sounded tired, small.

Memories leaked unbidden into Ibiki's mind. They did this sometimes, despite his best efforts to leave the past where it belonged - in the past.

An exam room full of nervous genin. A wide-eyed and pink-haired girl, an uncontainable blond tornado, and a raven-haired boy whose intense frown contradicted his carefully concocted air of disinterest. Team seven. So similar to the sannin, even then.

But if he'd had to pick one of them that would amount to nothing - and he had picked one, that very afternoon, who he'd decided was nothing more than a squad filler - it was the girl. No bloodline limit, no tailed beast, no clan. No taijutsu, no genjutsu. Just enough book smarts to answer the questions on a chunin level exam.

But here she was, a war hero, a student and confidante to two hokages, an Anbu operative. Standing in front of him ten years later, tiredly contemplating the disintegrating peace. She'd made herself into something, proved them all wrong, and Ibiki could respect that. But he couldn't ignore it.

"Do you have anything on the way to Kiri?" she asked after the long silence, her voice still tired. "I can take one or two on the way there, and if you have one that isn't so time sensitive, one on the way back."

Ibiki's ears perked up. She was offering to take at least three missions. That was at least three men who could be used in other missions, or who could maybe be spared.

"How long?"

"Four months," she shrugged. "At least. Maybe six. Got anything?"

He almost laughed at the redundancy of the question. Of course he had something. Multiple somethings. "You sure you can only take three?"

"Give me what you've got. I'll get to it eventually."

"You'll be back in six months? That'll be blizzard season," Ibiki said cheerfully. He had not expected such a victory, not here, not now, not with her.

"Then maybe that's the time that I stick around for a while," she winked, and hoisted the bag of stolen supplies on her shoulder. "But for now, fork over the missions. I really have to go."

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 **six months later**

Sakura squinted up at the sun, a blinding but welcome sight after so many weeks trapped in the dense fog of Kirigakure and the miserable network of caves underneath it. How anyone could willingly live there was beyond her.

It amazed her how quickly the fog had dissipated as soon as she'd stepped over the border, like nothing but magic had kept the opaque water droplets suspended in the air.

For a brief moment, she allowed herself to yearn for the green of Konoha. She hadn't seen her home in years. The closest thing to permanence she had was the Anbu base in ice country, and she was so rarely there. For good reason - it was miserable, and Ibiki was a bastard.

But she did not linger on thoughts of a home she would never see again. She rolled up her sleeves, letting the sun kiss her skin, and stuck her hand into her bag, rummaging for the last scroll Ibiki had given her. She'd warned him that she could have been gone for a very long time, but she'd gotten lucky and finished Kakashi's mission within the timeframe she'd promised.

Quick did not mean easy, however. Her stomach churned at the thought of the necessary violence that had occurred at her hands; the slick, somewhat slimy warmth of blood that had spurted onto her face and slid down her neck, only to congeal in the valley of her collar bone in the hours after the fight. The crunch of bone, easily powdered in her grasp, and the feel of sinews being sliced to ribbons.

The familiar sight of green chakra incinerating a man's flesh.

She put it out of her mind, though. If there was one thing Sakura knew, it's that she would be made to answer for her actions. But she wouldn't answer to them a minute sooner than she had to. She unrolled the scroll and scanned its contents, praying that she could have a reprieve from the violence.

Maybe. It was a collection mission. If she could get in and out undetected, then there would be no need for anyone to die.

She had just picked up Kakashi's next orders, too. One of his dogs had met her on her way out of town. Her work seemed never-ending. She liked it that way - it kept her mind off of the other things that were rattling around in her brain.

The work quelled whatever darkness had rooted inside of her. The busier she was, the less fuel there was for _that_ fire. The fire that was still growing daily, if infinitesimally. The fire that made her fingers tremble and made her wake up with the sheets soaked in sweat, a scream unable to dislodge itself from her throat.

The work stopped her from seeing things, feeling things - so much pain, none of it rightfully hers, the last rites of the lives that were snuffed out in _milliseconds,_ lives that had _no right_ to end while she was watching, moments she should not have been allowed to intrude upon - _Mama-_

She shook the vile thoughts out of her head. For now, she could rest. For now, there was a brief interlude between missions. She could pretend that she wanted this. Pretend that she needed a break.

She sat on a grassy hillock and pulled lunch out of her pack - some fishy, unappetizing abomination that she'd picked up on her way out of Ame. After one bite, she didn't have much of an appetite left, so she tossed it aside and fell backwards onto the grass.

As she stared at the sky, she thought of just how different her present and past were. How different her present was from anything she'd ever thought it could be. A younger Sakura would never recognize the woman she was now.

She spoke very little; most of her conversations were written on paper, or took place inside her own head. She often went weeks or months without seeing her own reflection, cutting her hair with a kunai the second it started to brush her shoulders. There was no longer any girlish softness about her, not in appearance or demeanor.

She wondered what Ino was doing in that moment; Sakura liked to imagine her sipping tea in her family flower shop, frowning about some boy or another. She wondered after Lee, Hinata, Shikamaru, Kakashi. Her friends. She had places she liked to imagine all of them; happy, safe, protected. Married, hopefully, maybe with children. Doing something that made them happy.

She did not wonder after Sasuke. Not on purpose, anyway.

Communication with the hokage had been sparse - which was to say, nonexistent. She'd left small messages here and there, but she had no confirmation he'd received them, and there was no way for her to receive messages in deep cover in Ame or Kiri. She assumed that if anything pressing happened in Konoha, she would pick up gossip on her travels, or Naruto would send her a letter if Kakashi was too busy.

She tried not to worry about what it meant that Kakashi's updates had been falling off. It could not mean anything good.

Ibiki was right. The peace was crumbling. She had seen it on the road. Shinobi from other villages were less trustful, less willing to help in a bind. Even Sakura herself - she hated to admit it, tried her best not to give in to it - felt her amiability towards other nations dwindling, her patience with other ninja growing thin.

Peace could not last forever. But she had hoped it would have had a longer and fuller life than a measly five years. If it had not lasted even long enough for an apple tree to bear fruit, then what had all of those people died for? Nothing?

Sometimes it felt like nothing.

 _Mama, Papa._

She watched an impossibly small spider weaving an impossibly small web between two blades of grass.

"Life is coming for you too, little buddy," she murmured. "Not just me."

It didn't care for her words, continuing to labor tirelessly on its tiny masterpiece.

She stood and brushed off her pants. It was time to get back on the road. Ibiki's mission promised to be simple enough, and then she would return to the ice country base. She might even stay there for a few days, sleep in a real bed. See who the new medic was and if he or she needed any help, see if anyone had left behind any good paperbacks. Not romances.

She peeled open the mission scroll that Kakashi had had delivered by one of his dogs and scanned its contents.

 _Head back to the Ice base. You're getting a rookie this year. No arguing. It's tradition._

 _Love, Kakashi._

 _p.s. go easy on Ibiki. He's cold and elderly._

She frowned and squinted at the words as she read them again, hoping her eyes were playing tricks on her.

 _Kakashi, you bastard._

She might be spending more time in the snow than she had anticipated.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Sasuke took one last look at his apartment, scanning the sparsely furnished space for anything he was leaving behind. He was wearing the standard black mission garb, complete with green vest and red armband; a pack of modest size was hoisted on his shoulder, carrying the belongings he thought he might need for an extended contract with Anbu. It wasn't much - mostly just weapons, in fact, as he figured everything else might just be kind of pointless.

As he was turning to leave, he remembered something. He walked back into his bedroom and pulled open the top drawer of his nightstand.

At the bottom of the drawer, well-hidden beneath stacks of folded shirts, was a picture.

He fingered the edges of the photograph before tucking it into the pack with the rest of his belongings.

Sasuke did not spare a second glance for his apartment as he left. He hadn't cared for it, and he had been aching to leave Konoha for months - _years,_ if he was honest. He was done trying to fulfill Itachi's ideas of protecting the village from the inside.

 _We'll keep the apartment for you,_ Kakashi had promised.

 _No need,_ Sasuke had replied.

 _We'll do it anyway,_ Kakashi had shrugged. Sasuke had shrugged right back, figuring that Kakashi could do whatever he wanted with the apartment. It was _his_ village, after all. He was the hokage.

No, Sasuke did not spare a second glance. Hopefully he wouldn't be back for a long, long time.


	3. Homecoming

**homecoming**

 _so tell me why my gods all look like you_

 _and tell me why that's wrong_

 _-king princess, 1950_

It was cold.

It was _fucking_ cold.

Sasuke frowned as he looked over the dark, snowy landscape that would be his home for the next six months. If one could even call it a landscape, really - it was an ugly conglomeration of cinder block cabins and barracks, protruding starkly from a deep layer of snow. The occasional solitary tree stood detached from the buildings, their thin branches drooping from the weight of the ice.

It was completely flat for miles, although a mountain range rose starkly in the distance; nothing to see, nothing to do, and perhaps most importantly - nowhere to run. It was a far cry from the balmy greenery of Konoha. But that was what he wanted, wasn't it? A change of scenery?

All things considered, it was a truly miserable scene. Although he didn't know what else he had expected from the Anbu base in Ice Country.

Maybe it would look better in the morning. The temperature had dropped steeply as the evening had rounded off into the night; he shoved his hands into his pockets to keep them warm.

 _You could stay, you know,_ Naruto had told him when Sasuke had first been offered a position with Anbu. _You know I can't,_ Sasuke had replied.

A man was waiting to greet him. He had a familiar face that took Sasuke a few seconds to place - _Morino Ibiki,_ he remembered after a moment. He had aged significantly since Sasuke had last seen him - to be fair, that was ten years ago, at the chunin exams. If anyone had aged since then, it was Sasuke. The Anbu commander frowned at him.

"Uchiha. You're early," Ibiki said gruffly. "And alone. You were supposed to come in with the other rookies."

"They were going too slow," he answered shortly. "And I like to travel alone."

"That's not really how it works here," Ibiki grumbled. "We already got enough lone wolves. And we aren't ready for you yet. Everyone's out on missions. How far back is the rest of the group?"

"At least a day, if they didn't pick up the pace." Sasuke had left the rest of the new recruits behind a few hundred miles back. They were a chatty bunch and Sasuke was not conflicted about moving forward on his own. He didn't like chatty; if something had to be said then he would say it, otherwise there was no need to clutter the air.

"Well, can't be helped now," Ibiki sighed, and gestured toward the the circle of small cabins in the distance. " Those are the barracks. You can start getting settled in. You've got the pick of the rookie cabins, since nobody is here to fight you for it. First thing in the morning, head over to the medic cabin to get cleared for active duty."

Sasuke nodded curtly; Ibiki dismissed him with a wave of his hand and a mutter about the godforsaken cold and needing to get back to his office. Sasuke was glad to take his leave, and set out in the snow toward the circle of cinder block buildings.

If anything could be said about Anbu, it wasn't that they were wasteful.

He found a suitable cabin without much effort; they were all the same. A small gray affair with two small windows and a small porch with three steps leading up to the door. A key was already in the lock, waiting for him. He let himself in and took in his surroundings: a bed, a pillow, a blanket, a wood burning stove. A table with a single chair. Not much else.

Sasuke started a fire in the wood stove and found that it heated the small cabin to a livable temperature rather quickly. He unpacked the sparse belongings he had brought with him: his weapons, a single set of civilian clothing, and the picture.

He paused, running his thumb along the faces in the glossy photograph. He had debated with himself whether to bring it for a long while, ultimately stuffing it in his pack just moments before he left.

Team 7. Of course, they weren't much of a team anymore. Kakashi was now hokage, and being hokage in a village still recovering from a devastating war was sure to be busy. Naruto was frequently sent away on diplomatic missions, in preparation to take over for Kakashi someday. When he was in the village, he spent most of his time with Hinata, with whom he had cultivated an unexpectedly productive relationship. There was talk in the village of marriage. And Sakura had disappeared years ago, unseen and unheard from, at least to Sasuke. He was sure that she kept in touch with at least some of her friends, judging from the way no one was all that concerned by the way she seemingly evaporated into thin air.

No one would speak of her in his presence. Even Naruto would laugh nervously and clumsily change the subject when her name came up in casual conversation. It was like she had never existed. After the first year, he got the hint: she wanted nothing to do with him.

Sometimes he wondered about her, if she had found whatever she was looking for. She must have, if she hadn't returned to the village. He had only been out of the hospital for a week before he heard of her departure. She'd healed his arm and left before he could seek her out to thank her, to apologize again for all of his wrongs, to try to set things right.

She could've settled into his heart as easily as she had the rest of the village's, as she'd been threatening to do since they were genin, if he would have let her. He wouldn't have pushed her away forever, he was certain of it. He had never been anything but selfish, had never been all that strong a proponent of delayed gratification. And he'd craved her love and warmth as much as a man could crave anything. She would have grown comfortable in his silences and he would have begun to listen to her neverending chatter.

Maybe it was for the best that she had gone.

But still, despite the many degrees of separation between them all, Sasuke had brought the photograph with him. He'd had it since he was a young boy. As a child, he'd looked at it often, and when he'd left the village, the image had regularly entered into his mind in spite of himself. The three of them were as close to a family as he would ever get, and they had fought tooth and nail to bring him home, to pull him from the hatred that had engulfed his younger years. They had forgiven him entirely despite his crimes. The photograph was a reminder of the good in Konoha. The part of the village he wanted to protect.

Now he slid the photograph under the rather deflated-looking pillow and pulled off his clothes, wet with melted snow.

The fire crackled as he slid into bed. It was too cold for him to dream.

When he awoke, it was late morning; the one window in the cabin faced west, so no sunlight had filtered in to wake him at dawn. He'd have to get used to that - in Konoha, the first light had served as an adequate alarm.

The fire had burned itself to nothing but embers during the night, but the cabin remained livably warm. Sasuke rolled out of bed and pulled on his uniform.

He remembered Ibiki's instructions from the night before: _Head to the medic to get evaluated for active duty._ Sasuke didn't need to be told twice - active duty was exactly what he wanted, sooner rather than later. _Immediately_ rather than later. He was sick of sitting around.

He left his cabin to find the medic.

As he walked, he wondered what type of woman the medic would be; she must be at least somewhat strange to have chosen to be posted out here. Kakashi had told him that there was only one woman in the entire Ice Country base. So few men became medics that Anbu recruited women for the sole purpose of staffing the foreign bases to treat their injured. It must be a strange kind of loneliness, he thought, to be the only woman in an encampment of men who hadn't seen another female in months.

Sasuke was able to easily identify the building from the large red cross on its otherwise unremarkable door. He knocked loudly, willing the medic to come quickly and not leave him waiting out in the cold.

A part of him thought that it might be _her,_ that he might find her here in the snow, healing frostbite and hypothermia. He didn't allow himself to dwell on that thought. _Impossible._

A large, gruff looking man with a thick walrus mustache opened the door, rubbing his eyes. "Who're you?"

"I'm looking for the medic. Is she in?" Sasuke asked rather brusquely.

The man chuckled, his grin making the ends of his mustache curve upward. "You must be one of the rookies. It's me you're looking for."

Sasuke scowled. " _You're_ the medic?"

"Come on in. I'm Yuuto. And unfortunately, I'm the medic at this camp. I know, I know. Not who you were expecting."

Shaking off his surprise and disdain, Sasuke entered the building. A fire crackled cheerfully in a fireplace in the corner, casting a warm glow around the cot-filled room.

"You can sit on that cot right there and take off your cloak. Ibiki send you for your clearance physical?" Yuuto asked, snapping on a pair of gloves.

"Yes." Sasuke sat on the nearest cot. Yuuto pulled a stool in front of him and sat his rather large body on it.

"Liking Snow Country so far?" Yuuto asked conversationally as he shone a bright light into Sasuke's eyes.

He shrugged. "I'm not here to enjoy myself."

"No, I guess you're not. Take a deep breath for me - good, now exhale. Lungs alright. Heart sounds good. Doing the usual rookie rotation?'

"Six months." The cold stethoscope on Sasuke's back made him wince.

"They tell you that, but it'll be closer to nine. They're pretty short staffed out here. Only got a couple of regulars. Even Ibiki's only out here because he drew the short end of the stick."

"Why do people stay?" Sasuke asked, curious. After rookie rotation, an agent could request which base to be sent to. He couldn't imagine any agents asking to remain here - but if there were regulars, then there had to be _some_ redeeming quality of this wasteland.

"Nothing and nobody waiting for them back in Konoha, usually. The agents who stay usually do it as a sort of self-imposed penance for whatever they've done in their past."

"Hn," Sasuke murmured. He knew the feeling that Yuuto was talking about.

"Not me, though. Been an agent for almost eight years, only came out here because they're offering good money. You see some bad injuries out here. But once my year's up, I'm out of here. No way, no how am I staying in this shithole."

Sasuke didn't reply to this. Yuuto continued his inspection, his eyes pausing on Sasuke's new arm.

"This isn't the arm you were born with, eh?"

"No. I lost it in the war," Sasuke said, smiling wryly. It was the truth, if only part of it.

"Whoever put it back did a hell of a job. Usually impossible to do. Do you remember the medic who did it?"

The smile faded from Sasuke's face. "A girl I used to know."

Yuuto nudged Sasuke, a knowing look in his eyes. "We all got one of those, eh? Well, she's a damn good medic, looks like, if she can regrow an arm from scratch. Maybe we'll get her out here one of these days."

"She disappeared years ago," Sasuke said flatly. He did not wish to spend any more time that day dwelling on Haruno Sakura. She took up far too much real estate in his mind as it was.

"Too bad. The boys out here would love to have a female medic," Yuuto sighed. "But women disappear as easily as anything. Haven't seen a woman in months."

"I was told there was a woman at this base," Sasuke said, noticing the faraway look in Yuuto's eyes.

"Oh, there is." Yuuto grinned. "Been out here for years. I heard she started out as a medic and Ibiki nixed that. Had her on combat quicker than he could throw a kunai. Now she's one of the best we've got, S-rank exclusively. But you might not ever see her."

"What's her name?" Sasuke asked curiously. He didn't know Anbu currently had any women in combat roles.

But Yuuto shrugged. "It's none of my business. The girl is never around long enough to share that much information. She's been on a mission for a few months now, but we got ten or so guys coming back tonight. I think she's one of them. No doubt she'll be back on the road tomorrow, if she is."

"Hn," Sasuke intoned. In spite of himself, he was curious about her. He wondered if he could procure a similar deal - solo work, gone for months at a time.

"You've got a bit of a fever. Do you feel sick?"

"It's normal," Sasuke assured Yuuto. His temperature had always been a few degrees higher than what it should be. His mother had proudly called it his will of fire when he was little, the sign of a true Uchiha.

"Well, if you say so," Yuuto shrugged. "Everything looks good. I'll bring your official clearance to Ibiki this afternoon. You're good to go. I'll see you at the rookie tattooing ceremony tonight."

"Ceremony?"

Yuuto laughed at the panic in Sasuke's voice. "Not one for a party, eh?"

"Not really," Sasuke grumbled.

"Well, it's mandatory, so that's too bad. They gotta get that tattoo on your arm some time, and you'll also get assigned to a mentor."

"Mentor?"

"Yeah, an older, more experienced operative. It's tradition! You rookies need someone to show you the ropes. And someone to do your evaluations, since Ibiki's too busy to do it these days."

Sasuke bit back a sigh. He did not like compulsory, he did not like jumping through hoops, and he certainly didn't like mentors. But he supposed that if obedience was the quickest way towards taking missions, then obedience was his new middle name. "Who's my mentor, then? Can't I just go meet him now?"

"Dunno," Yuuto shrugged. "Only Ibiki knows. He picks them randomly and then the both of you will find out tonight. He likes a bit of pomp, that old man. A little mystique."

Sasuke hated both of those things.

Yuuto handed him a soft stack of folded black cloth. "This is your new uniform. You won't be needing the Konoha threads you're wearing, so you can toss them if you'd like."

Sasuke took the bundle of clothes wordlessly and stood, preparing to face the biting cold once again.

"I'll bring your clearance to Ibiki this afternoon," Yuuto called after Sasuke as he left.

The rest of the day passed without much excitement. Sasuke changed into his new uniform, feeling remiss without the Uchiha fan on his back, before going to the mess hall for breakfast. Sometime after lunch, the rest of the recruits made it to the encampment, and from their glares, Sasuke could tell they harbored some resentment over his abandonment of their little group. He simply rolled his eyes; he had not joined Anbu to make friends, and there was no reason to travel at as slow a pace as they had been, unless the reason was incompetence.

He learned that the snow rarely stopped, if ever. He was told by two separate operatives that he was lucky. If he'd arrived a week earlier, he would have found himself in the midst of a icy flurry. A week later and he would have been smack in the beginning of blizzard season.

An hour before dinner, operatives who had been away on missions began to roll in. A few came in with teams, but most of them were alone. They were all dirty and tired-looking as they headed straight for Yuuto's cabin. But they seemed to be in good spirits by the time they reached the dining hall.

"Is the lady back yet?" Sasuke heard one tall, light-haired operative ask his companion, a tinge of hopefulness in his voice.

"Naw. Ibiki said she'll be back for the ceremony, though. She's got a rookie this time around."

"Bad luck. Bet that has her in a mood."

"She's not as superstitious as you, Hiroto. Besides, look at Shota. He got a rookie last time around, and he's still alive."

"Shota also lost his right hand a week later on a mission with Aoi," grumbled Hiroto. "I'm just saying, if I got drawn to get a rookie, I'd fucking quit. I'd be back in Konoha before Ibiki could throw a kunai at me."

"What's so bad about being a mentor?" asked the man sitting next to the operatives. Sasuke recognized him as one of the rookies who had come in today.

"Nothing," grumbled one of the older shinobi, but Hiroto shushed him.

"Rookies always get their mentors killed." Hiroto said imperiously. "Although most operatives only make it a couple of years anyway."

"That's not true," said his friend grumpily. "Stop scaring them."

It looked a little late for that, though. The rookie had turned white as a sheet. Sasuke smirked. What had he thought he was in for, a bunch of D-rank missions? Finding old ladies' cats? It was common knowledge that over half of all Anbu operatives died within their first two years. There was a reason that Anbu recruited largely young men with no family left. Of course, that was not the case for every operative; many came because of the thrill, or because it was a way to travel, to get out of their villages, to earn respect. But the best operatives were the ones who had no one waiting for them to come home.

"She'll be fine, though. So you don't need to worry about anything until the next batch of rookies," Hiroto said encouragingly.

"Who is she?" asked another rookie excitedly. "I heard there was a girl here. I thought that she was gonna be the medic, but instead it was some fat guy with a mustache."

"Go easy on Yuuto," warned the older operative. "He'll save your life someday. The girl is one of the hokage's shinobi. She takes missions directly from him, no one else. She's not around much, because as soon as she finishes one mission the Hokage sends her another one. But she's been out here for years."

"How long have _you_ been here?"

"Eight months. They said I could go home after six, but then they took it back, bunch of assholes."

Sasuke turned away from the men, no longer interested in their conversation. He finished the rest of his meal in silence, tuning out the chatter around him. He did not try to make friends: what good would they do him? He planned on only taking solo missions.

The evening passed this way, with idle chatter between operatives and recruits, punctuated by the occasional return of agents. They would stumble into the base, weary and forlorn, for Yuuto to intercept them and Ibiki to instruct them to wash up and report to the firepit by nightfall for the tattooing of the rookies.

Sasuke found that Anbu was a tight-knit operation, heavily steeped in tradition but also in loneliness. Yuuto was right; everyone was looking for a reason to celebrate.

Dusk fell early in Ice Country; the sun set and the temperature dropped swiftly, leaving the operatives to rush to their cabins to pile on layers before the ceremony took place.

Agents slowly began to filter into the clearing that held the fire pit in the center of the base. Sasuke followed them out, finding that the flurry of snow had only increased. The warmth from the large fire was hardly enough to stave off the cold. He looked around the gathering curiously; there were no women in sight, but many new faces. He wondered which one would be the unlucky soul assigned to babysit him.

 **..**

 **..**

 **..**

Sakura arrived back at the Ice Country base with water squelching in her boots and ice forming on her eyelashes. It was late evening and the sun was down, but there were still a few minutes left before it would be completely dark.

It was _almost_ beautiful, the soft, dusky blue light on the silent white snow. It glittered sweetly around the smattering of cabins, and the warm glow coming from the mess hall lent itself to an ethereal, almost _cozy_ atmosphere.

Almost.

She knew that everyone would have been filtering back into the base today; Ibiki had put out the call for all operatives that could return to do so, and do so quickly, in order to attend the rookie tattooing ceremony.

The Anbu tattoo on Sakura's own shoulder tingled uncomfortably under the layers of clothing as she remembered her own tattooing ceremony and her own mentor. She shivered.

She had arrived at this cold hour because she knew everyone would be in the mess hall having dinner, therefore there would be no welcoming committee camped out to herald her return.

No, this way she could go straight to Ibiki. Keep the old man unaware, ambush him in his office, look him in the eye and lay it on thick. That was the best way to get him to acquiesce, Sakura had found over the years. A little feminine charm went a long way out here in the ice.

"Looking for me?" a voice growled from behind her.

Sakura nearly jumped out of her skin and turned to see Ibiki ankle-deep in the snow, arms crossed over his chest.

"Thought you could sneak up on me because I'm getting old, eh?" Ibiki asked, eyes narrowed.

"Um," Sakura said, biting her lip and thinking it unwise to lie.

Ibiki waved a dismissive hand in the air. "You never change, do you?"

Sakura smiled, sensing she wasn't in any real trouble. "You tell me."

"You got Kakashi's scroll, I take it. Unless you're here just to visit me."

"I got his scroll," Sakura confirmed, the smile sliding off of her face. "Look, I really don't think this is a good ide—"

Ibiki raised a hand to stop her. "I don't want to hear it, Haruno. You've been Anbu for long enough now that you know how it works, and you can't shirk your duties to the brotherhood forever."

"I haven't been shirking my duties," Sakura snapped, stung. "I've been turning out missions just like the rest of you. Including the six you saddled me with the last time I saw you, so you're welcome, by the way."

"No need to get snippy," Ibiki said placatingly. "A lot of men are here tonight because they didn't die on those missions that you took."

"So let me keep working," Sakura pleaded. "Don't make me do this. I don't want to be a mentor. I don't want a rookie, I just want to work."

"It's too late now. Besides, we're short staffed, and we can't release a troop of green-bellied loose cannons on the world without having someone show them the ropes. There's a way we do things around here, and you know the code, so bring up a new recruit. Show 'em what you wish you'd known."

Sakura grumbled something under her breath about the things she'd wished she'd known. Ibiki decided he didn't really care to hear what she'd said - he could guess.

"So get to your cabin, get cleaned up, and figure out what you're gonna say to your rookie, because I'm going to go get the ceremony started. We'll be at the fire pit. Try not to be too late," Ibiki warned. "I don't want to have to come looking for you again."

He began to walk away, but Sakura reached out and grabbed his sleeve to stop him.

"Something is coming, Ibiki," she said quietly. "Something is coming and it's getting closer every day. Don't take me out of the field now."

Ibiki paused and studied her for a moment before sighing. "I know, kid. And I know that's what you've been dealing with out there. Think of it this way: don't let our new recruits go in blind."

Then he turned around and stalked away, leaving her standing in the snow alone once again. She squinted after him, hoping he could feel the holes she was trying to burn in his back. He didn't turn around.

 _That didn't go well,_ she thought to herself as she stomped away to her cabin. She wasn't sure that she had expected anything else; she had known that she couldn't keep using Anbu resources and claiming Anbu immunity without having to participate in Anbu customs.

As she changed into fresh tactical gear, she felt a twinge of pity for whoever her rookie was, sitting out there around the fire waiting for her. They probably didn't think they needed a mentor – they thought they were already the best of the best, the hand-picked jonin elite who had been selected by the hokage himself.

She didn't know what she was going to teach them when she herself was so lost in this world. She didn't know how she was going to guide them through the violence and field of bodies that this job turned up, didn't know how she was going to explain who she was and where she came from and why she couldn't go back there. Why she couldn't sleep at night with the heavens looking down on her for all she'd done.

She sat at the tiny table with a pen and scribbled a few words on a napkin. When she finished, she read them back to herself.

They weren't beautiful, lacking elegance and polish, but they were true, and true was the best she could give. She didn't want her rookie to expect anything she couldn't give them.

She glanced out of the window; it was completely dark by now. Ibiki was going to have a cow. The ceremony must have long since started while she was dallying over pretty words. She lit a fire in the tiny cabin before venturing back out into the dark – she might as well have something warm to return to after this nonsense was over. She hurried across the snow towards the warm light emanating from the blaze, tucking the short speech she had written into her pocket.

 _Let's get this over with._

* * *

 _a/n: sometimes i don't post updates because I get really anxious about response, even though you guys are incredible and kind readers. You know how it is. Thanks a ton for reading._


	4. Blind, part one

_**the sun goes with you, chapter four : blind**_

 _I've been finding it hard to say how I feel, as of late_

 _There's a depth to my fatigue, it's getting hard to explain_

 _There's a dirt on my skin and it doesn't seem to wash off_

 _Set sail or call to port, this wind's tying round my neck in knots_

 _-tell me, ziggy alberts_

The fire pit was situated at the heart of the snow country base, surrounded by a circle of wooden benches which enveloped a large and magnificent fire. The fire crackled loudly as operatives found their places amongst their friends and waited for the tattooing ceremony to begin; Ibiki found his place standing in front of the fire to address his subordinates, his dark figure silhouetted against the flames that danced against the black night sky.

"Alright, rookies. In the middle," Ibiki called, and Sasuke stepped forward toward the fire, content to stay at the back of the tiny group. At least thirty agents had come for the ceremony, not including the eight rookies that now stood at the front of the pack. Sasuke didn't recognize anyone.

"Now, I'm not really one for sentimental words," Ibiki continued.

The chuckle that arose from the crowd told Sasuke that this was an understatement.

"So I won't be saying any, except for welcome, and that your village and country thank you for your commitment to their continued safety. This year's rookie ceremony is going to be conducted by Yuuto, your base medic and camp mother. And as is the custom of this ceremony, I have something for the rookies. A gift, if you will."

Ibiki held out his fist; in it was clutched a fistful of long, black strips of fabric that dangled down from his hand.

 _Please don't be blindfolds,_ Sasuke thought.

"Blindfolds," Ibiki announced. "Traditional and symbolic of trust and inexperience. When you get your own rookie in a few years they'll get the same treatment. The mentors have also been blindfolded – not to symbolize anything, but just for fun. They're waiting to meet you now, and it's cold, so no fussing about putting these things on."

Sasuke sighed. In the old days – before he was born, or maybe before he was old enough to realize what had been happening beneath his nose – Uchiha clan traitors, being led from imprisonment to their clan-meted execution, were always blindfolded. To the Uchiha, taking a person's eyesight from them was the ultimate symbol of weakness, the final debasement – the last insult as you died, blind by the hands of your brethren.

Still, Sasuke took the blindfold that was handed to him and tied it around his eyes without complaining, even when Ibiki stopped in front of him and stared with hard eyes and did not walk away until he was satisfied that Sasuke could no longer see.

Ibiki was one of the old soldiers who remembered why it was a _good_ thing that the Uchiha were massacred. Sasuke could sense the distrust that rolled off the old ninja in waves. He could also sense that Ibiki knew _exactly_ the significance of blindfolding an Uchiha.

Sasuke shifted uncomfortably, bumping shoulders with the rookie next to him, as his other senses leapt to fill in the void left by his missing eyesight. He reached up to touch the blindfold, wishing he could rip it off. He didn't know how Kakashi did it for all those years, even if he'd only had the one eye obscured.

"Welcome, rookies!" Sasuke heard Yuuto's booming voice exclaim from several yards away. "Welcome to Ice country! As I'm the only one here - aside from our dear commander - who's met each and every one of you, it's only right that I get to introduce you to your new family. For those of you with short memories, I'm Yuuto, the camp medic. Has everyone got their blindfolds on?"

The question was met with the sound of shuffling and chafing fabric as the eight rookies nodded their heads and shifted awkwardly. These sorts of theatrics did not agree with Sasuke and did nothing for his already irritable mood.

"Then bring in the mentors!" Yuuto roared. There was much clapping and laughter from the crowd as the sound of ice crunching beneath boots filled the air. "Don't you dare touch your blindfolds, you scoundrels!"

Sasuke was acutely aware of the warmth of approaching bodies; the line of mentoring operatives was being led to stand face to face with the line of newcomers. A breathing body stopped directly in front of him. Sasuke could tell that the mentor was shorter than him, but nothing else could be deduced with that _stupid_ blindfold on his face.

Other than the fact that the person in front of him smelled like soap and tea leaves and something distinctly familiar and melancholy that he could only define as _home_.

"Operatives, prepare to meet your new rookies. The mentors may now remove their blindfolds."

There was rustling as eight operatives pulled the blindfolds from their faces; he heard laughter and clapping from the others, but not from the agent sitting across from him.

He hoped this meant that his mentor also did not appreciate these sorts of histrionics. He could work with the silent type. _Please be the silent type._

"Mentors, please remove the blindfolds of your pupils."

Sasuke felt his hair being ruffled as a pair of hands reached around his face and warm breath on his cold cheek as the operative leaned forward to free his vision.

Fingers brushed across his cheeks, pushed aside his hair. _Soft._

The fingers fumbled with the knot briefly before finally loosening it, letting the blindfold fall to the ground between them. Sasuke opened his eyes to look into the face of his new mentor.

He found himself staring into the discontented green eyes and frowning face of Haruno Sakura.

Her hair was shorter, and she was ever so slightly taller, markedly thinner… but it was her, there was no mistake.

"Sasuke?" she whispered.

No.

 _No._

He blinked once, twice, three times – attempted to dispel the obvious genjutsu he was placed under, but nothing changed. Never before had he thought to doubt his own eyes, the one sense that never failed him.

 _She_ was standing right in front of him, short pink hair swirling around her face as the bitter, icy wind whistled through the night, the flames of the bonfire reflected in her searching eyes, cheeks flushed from the cold and lips pursed in an unhappy line.

And she was wearing the same thing as everyone else here – the same black and gray Anbu uniform, the same Anbu symbol emblazoned across her vest – and if he'd looked, he would have found the same Anbu tattoo on her left shoulder. _She can't be._

What felt like hours passed in the span of a single second.

"You?" Sasuke demanded finally, and his voice was biting but also - and he hated this - weak.

"Me," she said slowly, and her voice was unreadable. "What are you doing here?"

Her voice was drowned out by the shouts of rookies and mentors as one by one, the rookies were released from their blindfolds – their voices were joined by interjections and hollers from the crowd of operatives behind them. Still, he could hear that she wasn't exactly happy to see him.

Who could have thought that after all these years, he'd find her _here?_

"I could ask you the same thing," Sasuke said stiffly. "I'm here because Kakashi sent me—"

" _Kakashi_ sent you?" she asked sharply, and she sounded angry and startled, and _betrayed,_ almost. "He wouldn't. You're lying."

"I'm n—"

"Operatives!" Yuuto bellowed, sounding entirely too upbeat and unbothered for the situation at hand. "Introduce yourselves to your rookies!"

Sakura sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I guess I don't need to introduce myself to you."

"Don't you?" Sasuke seethed, because he was quite certain this was not the Sakura he once knew, sitting across from him in full Anbu uniform, short pink hair framing her unhappy face. This woman looked like a stranger to him. A stranger whose every contour he knew like the back of his hand, a stranger who was accusing him of _lying_ as the first sentence out of her mouth after five years.

She blinked, as if this was not what she had expected him to say. "Cheeky."

Yuuto appeared behind her shoulders, large meaty hands clapping down on her. "Haruno! Don't be a spoilsport. Introduce yourself to your rookie!"

"I already know him," Sakura said accusingly – and Sasuke knew the accusation wasn't leveled at the medic, but at himself.

He didn't know she could sound that way towards him.

"Tradition!" Yuuto barked. "Introductions must be made!"

Sakura glared up at the large mustachioed man, but then relented when she sensed that she was fighting a losing battle. "Alright, since I already wrote it."

She reached into her pocket and withdrew a crumpled piece of paper. It looked awfully akin to a scribbled-on napkin as she flattened it against her thigh. She waved Yuuto away, and the medic was all too happy to oblige, flouncing off to butt into the business of other mentors and their rookies.

She sighed and glanced up at Sasuke again, as if to say _are you really going to make me do this_ before looking back down at the napkin.

"My name is Haruno Sakura, and I am your new mentor. I know that I did not choose you, and you did not choose me, but I hope that we can be friends."

Her voice faltered slightly, and their eyes met.

"Because of that, I will promise you the same things that I promise all of my friends: I promise to protect you always and to help you understand when you find this new life to be too difficult. I promise to keep my door open for you. I promise that as long as I am with you, no harm will come to you, and that I will defend you until my last breath. I promise to stand behind you and to support you when no one else will. And…"

Here she trailed off, her eyes fluttering back down to the paper in her hand.

"I promise to lay my life down for you, if need be. We are all your family now; welcome." She said these last words with a strong sense of finality.

For a moment, Sasuke was rendered speechless.

For what was supposed to be an introduction, she had certainly created more questions than she had answered.

Their eyes met again briefly as Ibiki spoke. "Mentors, you may now seal the Anbu tattoo on the left shoulder of your rookie."

"Give me your arm," Sakura sighed, holding out her hand.

"First tell me what you're doing here."

"Same thing as everyone else," she replied dismissively, sighing again as she reached out and grasped his forearm; with her other hand she pulled down the collar of his shirt, revealing the skin of his left shoulder to the elements. The hair on his arms stood from the cold.

"Freezing to death?"

"Do you understand the commitment you are making?" she murmured, keeping her eyes averted from his.

"Of course I do," Sasuke said. "I don't understand –"

"A chronic affliction of yours," Sakura muttered, and she sounded weary, forlorn; some of the fire had gone out of her voice. She placed her palm flat against his exposed skin, and the warmth of her fingers was frustratingly distracting on his arm. How long had he wondered exactly what her touch would feel like, after all of these years?

"It's not too late to back out, Sasuke. Go back to Konoha, meet someone, revive your clan. I thought that's what you wanted," she continued quietly as she pulled a kunai from her hip pouch. Her other hand did not budge from his shoulder.

Sasuke could hardly believe what he was hearing. "Excuse me?"

"Don't do this. Go back to the village. Be happy. Be safe."

"I want this. I wanted to join," he told her, confused.

With one last unhappy look, she lifted her palm from his shoulder momentarily and let the kunai in her other hand make a shallow cut in his skin – his blood dribbled down his arm and spotted the white snow. She made a deeper cut into her own palm, letting her own blood pool slightly in the cup of her own hand.

"Then welcome to the brotherhood, Sasuke."

She laid her bloody palm against his shoulder and for a moment, his skin grew unbearably hot as their blood combined.

When it cooled, she withdrew her hand, and all that remained was the familiar swirl of the Anbu symbol, tattooed into his skin with her blood, a permanent, dark red mark. The cut she had made into his arm had disappeared.

He watched as the laceration on her own palm receded and then vanished, leaving not so much as a scar behind.

"How did you do that?" Sasuke asked – he'd never seen someone heal themselves so effortlessly without the familiar glow of medical chakra.

"Huh?" she asked distractedly, as she looked over her shoulder.

A raucous cheer had gone up among the operatives, and they rushed toward the fire to congratulate their new comrades. There was much clapping of backs and shaking hands; the closeness of the bodies made Sasuke uncomfortable. He turned to look at Sakura, to ask her again what she was doing here, to ask her what she meant when she said it wasn't too late, to ask her _anything,_ maybe even how she had been all these years… but she was gone.

He scanned the crowd for her pink head, but she was nowhere to be seen in the mass of people. Eventually, his eyes lit upon a figure on the outskirts of the crowd, following Ibiki away from the celebration.

 _No you don't,_ Sasuke thought, gritting his teeth. She was not going to walk away without any sort of an explanation. Not again. He could still not believe that after so many years of silence, he had found her in a remote ANBU base in Snow Country - and that she thought she was going to run off _again_. He extricated himself from the throng and went after her.

 **..**

 **..**

 **..**

"Morino," Sakura called out as she chased after the receding figure. She knew he could hear her, but he kept walking. "Morino, damn it, I know you can hear me."

Finally, he paused and turned to face her. She stopped when she was just feet from him, the clouds from her breath closing the distance between their bodies.

"You promised me!" she said angrily, willing her eyes to light him on fire, resisting the urge to stomp her foot in the snow, knowing it would just make her look childish. "We had a deal, Morino. What's he doing here?"

"The deal had to be adjusted to meet the staffing needs of the base," he said, his gaze unrepentant.

"And you didn't feel the need to let me know?" she seethed. Her anger was threatening to boil over; she felt the familiar pull of her chakra, whispering, telling her to let go, to _show_ him how angry she was instead of just _telling_ him. "And that's your answer to staffing needs? _Uchiha_ Sasuke? _You couldn't tell me, Morino?"_

"You were on a mission when I found out."

"I'm always on a mission, and you seem to manage to talk to me just fine when you need something _else_ from me," Sakura snapped. He had had no problem getting her a scroll telling her, a month into what was supposed to be a two-week mission, that her directive had been extended. Or to add a new kill to her list, or to tell her to pick up the special egg noodles he liked from Suna on her way back to the base. "You can't just go back on our agreement. Send him back."

"Don't presume to tell me what to do, Haruno. I don't take orders from you," Ibiki's eyes narrowed, but she refused to be intimidated by him.

"And I don't take orders from you. I'm here on the hokage's command. The same hokage," she said, letting her voice take on some of the petulance that she felt, "who agreed to the terms that _you're_ changing. And I know that you can't afford to lose me. Send him back."

"Are you threatening to desert your post, operative?" he asked quietly.

"You uphold your end, I'll uphold mine, _commander_ ," she said through gritted teeth.

"Take it up with Kakashi, then. He's the one who signed off on it. I just put in the request for new recruits."

Sakura froze. So it was true - Kakashi had allowed this to happen? He of all people knew very well exactly how much she would object to this. And to send him here, have him right under her nose, as if they were taunting her… if Kakashi thought that she would just let this one go, he had another thought coming. She might even have to make a stop in the village on her next trip to Fire Country, to remind him that she was no longer a girl to be walked over whenever he felt like it.

Ibiki, seeing that he had won, turned and kept walking toward his quarters.

"Morino," she called after him again, once she was sure that the shock of betrayal would not seep into her voice.

He stopped again, not bothering to conceal the annoyance on his face.

"I have new orders. To the outskirts of Kiri, starting tomorrow. I can't be his mentor." She hesitated before adding, "Please."

"Take him with you," Ibiki said, waving a nonchalant hand in the air.

"You know I can't do that."

"Then he'll wait for you to get back."

"Like hell he will," Sakura snorted mirthlessly, the irony of the statement not lost on her. "Listen. Ibiki. Come on, don't do this to me. I thought we were friends."

" _Friends_ has nothing to do with it. It's my understanding that Lord Sixth is worried about you. Wants you to get back to your roots. Your roots being _teamwork_."

"Then I quit."

"Yeah, Kakashi said you'd say that. He said you can either head straight back to Konoha and get put on indefinite medical leave until you get a proper attitude, or you can stay here and show the Uchiha the ropes."

She laughed then, without humor. "He doesn't need a mentor, Ibiki, and he especially doesn't need _me_."

"His brother is the whole reason we have this mentor program, because of what happens when you take your eyes off an Uchiha. People still don't trust him. The optics would be bad if we just let him loose without supervision or gave him special treatment."

"I don't give a damn about the optics."

"You want my advice, Haruno? I always thought you didn't need it, but looks like you do. Sit down, shut up, and do what you're told quietly. That's the fastest way to get what you want, and the fastest way for things to get back to normal for you."

She changed tactics quickly. "I'll take whatever missions you need me to take. Twenty of them. Two hundred. Anywhere you want, anything you want."

"Then he'll wait for you while you finish your new assignments," Ibiki shrugged.

"Just give him to someone else. We'll both be happier."

"I'm done arguing with you, operative. Good night." With this, he kept walking, his steady plod crunching through the iced surface of the snow.

Once he was out of earshot, Sakura let out a frustrated groan, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingertips. She would not stand for this. In the morning, she would… what? Send an angry scroll to the village? Argue with Ibiki some more?

For a moment, she stood and watched the snowflakes swirl lazily through the air, stark white against the pitch black sky.

Again, it was _almost_ beautiful; the flurry of ice crystals glinted in the moonlight as the small clumps of white floated down from the sky. She angrily wiped at her eyes, getting rid of the frustrated tears before they froze on her lashes – tears, a reflex from her past life that simply refused to leave her no matter what happened.

Of course, _of course_ he was sent here. It perfectly followed the seemingly endless downward spiral of her life that had started five years ago. No, that had started _ten_ years ago. With a last huff, she turned to head back to her cabin…

And walked straight into the folded arms of Uchiha Sasuke.

"Shit!" she exclaimed, jumping back. Her hand was already curled around the handle of a kunai in her hip pouch, ready to strike.

"Did you just try to have me sent back to the village?" Sasuke growled at her dangerously. The familiar scowl on his face told her that he had heard their entire conversation.

"Jesus Christ. First of all, don't ever sneak up on me again," she warned, ignoring his question. "Second of all, that conversation was private. Eavesdropping is rude. Goodnight, operative."

She pushed past him, willing him to let her go.

"Stop," he commanded, grabbing her shoulder. She sighed; obviously, he would prefer to do this the difficult way. Without turning around, she concentrated her chakra onto the surface of her skin, exactly where he was touching her.

After a millisecond, he snapped his hand away, burned.

"That is no way to speak to your ranking officer," she said quietly. The words felt foreign on her tongue, and her voice felt like it belonged to someone else. Before she could crack, she continued on her path, determined not to give him any ground. She was an adult now; gone were the days when a stern word from the last living Uchiha could turn her into a puddle.

"Sakura, wait," Sasuke called again, and she stopped. She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping that he would just give up, go away, leave her alone, the way he'd always been so good at…. "What is going on?"

She refused to look at him; tears were welling in her eyes once again. She found that she desperately wanted to tell him everything, and simultaneously wanted to never see him again. "Please, Sasuke. Let it go. Goodnight."

And with those final words, she continued on the lonely path to her isolated cabin. She knew that he was watching her back as she left; she did not give either of them the satisfaction of turning around.

It was a sleepless night for all involved.

Sasuke tossed and turned in his bed, his head swimming with questions as he stared at the ceiling. The image of his first sight of her all these years later wouldn't leave his mind – her wary green eyes, the angry snap of her clear voice and the rain-like hush of her whisper, the swish of her blush-pink hair over her shoulders.

The tears he'd seen her wiping off her cheeks, alone in the ice as the snowflakes swirled down around her, and the erratic puffs of her breath into the dark night.

The burn of his skin where he'd touched her. Sasuke rubbed his palm where the skin was still red and angry from the assault.

 _What was that?_

He wondered if she'd been here the whole time – wondered if anyone else knew that this is where she was.

He snorted mirthlessly when he remembered that he'd half expected her to be the base medic and how he had scolded himself afterward for even thinking that this was where she would turn up.

Well, here she was. Five years later, he'd found her.

Sakura was Anbu. _Sakura,_ the same girl who'd once been able to do nothing but ask him to stay as he walked away from everything he'd ever known, who'd insisted she loved him year after year until she disappeared into thin air, Sakura who had once been so loud and vivacious that the way she was now, all hard edges and biting words, seemed downright alien. She looked tired, weary, and both astonished and utterly unsurprised to see him standing in front of her.

It took him a few hours to pinpoint the biggest difference.

She'd lost everything about her that had once made her soft.

Across the base, in her cabin that was isolated from the rest of the barracks - _the girl cabin,_ she'd been told, as if girls were wild animals that needed quarantining - Sakura did not toss and turn like Sasuke. Instead, she remained perfectly motionless, as if by staying still life might not see her and might just pass her by, might decide to leave her alone this time, might forget about her entirely.

She watched the fire flickering in the wood stove, the fire that she'd set before she'd set out for the ceremony. In a few hours, it would burn itself out and nothing but embers would remain. Then, she would rise, and she would depart on another mission – business as usual.

Except now, everything was different.

 _No._ She couldn't afford to think that way. Things couldn't afford to be different.

Her thoughts returned to Sasuke, as they often did at this hour of the night when sleep escaped her (which was most nights). He was the same, as she knew he would be – taller, but still – porcelain skin, intense stare, inky black hair, and demanding voice.

 _Beautiful._

It didn't matter now. Not after everything that happened in the last five years.

Not with what was coming.

 _ **to be continued…**_

* * *

A/n: So my beta read this while he was drunk, and tbh I wish you guys could read his comments - which include telling Sasuke to "go back to being a terrorist, you goth piece of shit," referring to Yuuto as a frat star conducting a toga party, and Sakura as a crossfitter doing keto... Unfortunately this may have been his last chapter beta-ing for me so if any of you lovely people are looking to get on the early release list... I'm good fun, I swear!

Also, I worry that I've made Ibiki a little bit of an asshole, but he's done a lot for Sakura, as will be made clear in coming chapters.

read and review!


	5. The Foundation

A/n: does anyone even read author's notes? thanks for your patience and incredibly kind reviews! Sorry if some things aren't totally canon compliant - as stated, I only ever read the manga and never watched the anime, so my canon might be different from yours. That's the beauty of fanfiction!

* * *

the sun goes with you, chapter five: the foundation

love, it's just a little late

for you to be seeing me this way

-ziggy alberts, runaway

 _On the day that Sakura left Konoha for good, Kakashi had found her standing in his office, staring out at the village from the wide window behind his desk. Her arms were crossed across her chest, fingers absentmindedly tracing circles against the fabric of her hospital uniform._

 _It was an early morning - too early for even the stars to have all retired; the sun was not yet risen, nor were the villagers. Kakashi had hoped to be the first one in, so that he might, for once, have some peace. No such luck._

 _For her to be here waiting for him this early could not bode well. Good news could always wait; bad news hardly ever had the luxury. Her hospital shift would have not yet ended, so whatever it was had to be urgent enough for her to abandon her work._

 _"Everything alright?" Kakashi asked cautiously, frowning as he shut the door behind him and crossed the room to his desk.._

 _She startled slightly - lost in her own thoughts, like she was most of the time since the end of the war. But when she looked at him, wide-eyed and shaken, what was unspoken in her eyes answered his question: everything was most certainly not alright. Kakashi feared the worst - who had succumbed to their injuries in the night? Guy? Naruto? Sasuke? What had finally proven to be too much for her to heal?_

 _She was silent as she regarded him - her mouth opened and closed like a stunned fish before she looked away, her short hair flipping over her shoulder, turning back to the window._

 _"Sakura," Kakashi said firmly, his patience an exposed nerve. "Tell me."_

 _She was silent for another moment before she spoke, her voice a bare whisper. "Kakashi, they won't stop. The voices. The screaming."_

 _Kakashi visibly deflated as he sunk into the chair behind his desk, a warm trickle of relief flooding through his veins. Maybe he should feel guilty for this - relief that her struggles were not something that he would have to share in - but he couldn't waste his guilt on this, not now. His voice was sympathetic when he spoke. "They'll go away eventually, Sakura. Trust me. They always do."_

 _He wasn't lying. He had heard his fair share of screams in the night, had seen his fair share of death. They always left him alone in the end._

 _"No," she said, running a hand through her hair, turning to face him again. "They're not - I don't think it's just in my head. There's more to it than that. Not just a bad memory. Something's there, and it's not going away. It's getting worse."_

 _"You've been through a lot recently," Kakashi said gently. "You need to give yourself more time."_

 _"No!" she said forcefully, slapping her hand down on his desk. "Stop - stop doing that, Kakashi, god damn it. Stop treating me like a little girl. I'm telling you something is going on. Listen to me for once."_

 _"I'm listening," he said, raising his hands in the air placatingly. And he was listening - but what he was hearing was an overworked, overtired, scared young woman who had never really been meant for this sort of life anyway._

 _"No you're not," she sighed, the fight going out of her. "You're looking at me like I just need some sleep, or some therapy or something."_

 _Well, this much was true. If he could make her take a month or two off, he would. But Kakashi couldn't afford to send her on leave, not now - not when she was the only senior medic on staff since Shizune had left to run off-site operations. There were too many wounded to be taking able bodies out of the field. And besides, Kakashi trusted her; if he could have any set of eyes where he couldn't be, he wanted them to be hers._

 _Sakura was his only student that had been on the battlefield every day of the war - Naruto and Sasuke had shown up in the nick of time, certainly, as was their habit. And then true to form they had done some flashy world-saving with lots of collateral damage and left behind a mess for everyone else to clean up._

 _And true to her own form, she had worked methodically and tirelessly, without needing direction or encouragement. She'd sort of just shown up, the right place and the right time, and started doing exactly what he would have told her to do, but without being told._

 _But she'd just lost her parents - they'd been killed on the battlefield late in the war effort, and she was grieving the same way everyone else in Konoha was. Kakashi had forced time off on Yamanaka and Nara and Akimichi, who had all lost their fathers - but they had big families that needed tending to. The only people Sakura had left now were in the hospital and Kakashi thought the last thing she needed was forced isolation._

 _Once upon a time, he'd thought that most of his failings where Sakura had been concerned were more or less benign - where Naruto and Sasuke were involved, his various failings as a teacher had been dangerous, reckless, ill-afforded in a world tearing apart at the seams._

 _But for a while now, he had seen that maybe the damage he'd done to her had splintered her at the foundation. Maybe worse than what he'd done to Naruto and Sasuke._

 _"What do you mean, something is going on?" Kakashi asked, leaning back in his chair, frowning._

 _She sat in the chair across from his desk, looking nervous. She smoothed her hands over her lap uneasily. "I think something happened to everyone that died during the war. Everyone on our side."_

 _"Something like what?"_

 _She chewed on her lip for a moment before speaking again. "Remember… remember during the war and I did that thing with Katsuyu - where she split into thousands of little slugs that attached to everyone so I could use my chakra to heal them remotely?"_

 _"Yes," Kakashi said. He didn't much like the slugs. "Slimy little things."_

 _"I was really spread out. I was trying to cover thousands of allied forces. Tsunade didn't have much chakra left so she wasn't spread as thin. And then… things went wrong."_

 _"I remember," Kakashi said simply, wondering where she was going with this. "Sakura, it's not your fault that-"_

 _"Let me finish," she said. "Just let me finish. Like I said, things went wrong. While I was connected to all of these troops through my chakra. And it doesn't work like a telephone - usually. I can only tell when a slug is pulling on my chakra to heal someone."_

 _"It doesn't usually work like a telephone? Did it work that way this time?"_

 _"I don't know exactly what happened - I was too far away - but do you remember when we lost almost the entire Second Division?"_

 _"Yes," Kakashi said softly. Her parents had been in the second division. Which had been lost in a large-scale ambush that had killed nearly twelve thousand out of the eighty thousand forces that made up the Alliance._

 _"I was covering some eight thousand of them. I felt everything," Sakura said, her voice was pained, tightly checked. "I felt what they felt as they were dying. All of that pain - limbs blown off, bleeding out, crushed bones. Everything. And the fear of dying, the anger, the longing. All of it."_

 _Kakashi was silent, watching her as she traced patterns with her fingers on the glossy wood of his desk. He hadn't known this. He'd assumed she might have just felt a bunch of lives blink out of existence - there one moment, gone the next._

 _"But there was something else," she continued as her breath hitched, caught on something in her throat. "Something that I can't… I can't get it to make sense."_

 _"Strange things happen in war. To the mind."_

 _"Stop that. It's not a mind thing. It's not just in my head."_

 _"I didn't say it was."_

 _"You did. But there was something else, right before the connection broke. Everyone had this feeling of just… pure terror. That's the only way I can describe it. Worse than the fear of dying. This sort of uncontrollable panic."_

 _"A reasonable reaction to dying."_

 _"It wasn't that, though. Because then three things happened."_

 _"Okay," Kakashi said slowly. It was turning out that there were quite a few things Sakura hadn't shared with him. "What are these three things?"_

 _"First, my connection to everyone broke. All that chakra I had tied up, trying to heal who I could - it snapped."_

 _"And then?"_

 _"My chakra came back to me, but it had all of these… memories attached to it. Thoughts that weren't mine. Memories, Kakashi. Everyone's last memories. The last things they saw, the last things they thought of as they died."_

 _"Did you break the connection yourself?"_

 _"No," she said miserably. "It just… it splintered. I tried to hold onto it but I lost it. It was like someone yanked it away from me."_

 _"It's probably for the best," Kakashi sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Who's to say what would have happened if you hadn't let go?"_

 _"I was going to go with them," she said quietly. "My mom and dad… I felt what happened to them. I have their last memories, too."_

 _"You don't have to tell me," Kakashi said gently, hoping that she wouldn't. He didn't need to hear it._

 _"My dad went first," she said numbly, and her eyes were blank. "Crushed to death. My mom bled out a few feet away from him. She watched him die and then she… she went, too. She thought of my grandmother's hands knitting my first blanket as she died."_

 _"It's a good thing the connection broke, Sakura. Trust me."_

 _"It's not," she said desperately. "If I could have just hung out for a few more minutes…"_

 _"No. You could have been taken with it."_

 _"But when the connection broke, not everyone was dead yet. Not everyone was beyond healing. I was… I was working on it, I was fixing them. I lost them when I lost the connection. They didn't have to die. If I could have held on a bit longer… I could have saved them."_

 _Kakashi was silent for a few moments. That was news to him. "...What was the third thing?"_

 _"I felt them go somewhere. Everyone. All of their… souls, I think they were. The last thing I felt before the connection disappeared. They went somewhere else and left their bodies behind."_

 _"The… void?" Kakashi said, lacking a better word for it._

 _"No. Somewhere here. On Earth. And I think that place is what they were all so afraid of."_

 _Kakashi leaned back in his chair, sucking in a breath between his teeth. "Let me get this straight. You and your slug summon - who was a million little slugs and not just one great slug - were covering the second division remotely, by channeling your chakra stores into the slugs and from them into the people. When the second division was attacked, we lost twelve thousand soldiers, and you felt eight thousand of them die, somehow acquired all of their last thoughts and experiences, felt their life forces being taken somewhere… and now you hear all of those people screaming in your ear all day long."_

 _"Exactly," she said helplessly._

 _"That's fucked," Kakashi said simply._

 _"Tell me you believe me," she said desperately, leaning forward in her chair. "I know I sound insane-"_

 _"I believe you," Kakashi said, and it was true. Chakra was strange and relatively poorly-understood, even as they built their civilizations on top of it - new phenomenons happened every day. This was one of the more believable ones, as much as the possibility of what she had just told him made his skin crawl. Yes, Kakashi believed her. "You said you felt their souls go somewhere? Where?"_

 _"East," she said weakly. "Just… east. Sometimes, when I walk that way… when I stand at the eastern edge of the village, I can hear them getting louder. The further I walk… the stronger it all gets."_

 _It didn't make sense, Kakashi thought to himself_

 _"What do you want me to do?" he asked, sensing that this was what she came for._

 _"I'm tired of being weak. I mean it this time," she said. "Make me better. And then let me go find them."_

..

Five years later, it was a morning much like the one on which that uncomfortable conversation had occurred. Kakashi remembered her words from his office, peering down onto the village that he had been tasked with the care and keeping of.

She'd left that very same night. He said yes to her request, and she laid out a plan that was too sound, too well-considered for it to be anything but the product of many sleepless nights. She wanted to shed Konoha like a chrysalis, learn how to _really_ fight, and then hammer down whatever ghosts were still chasing her. And that sounded perfectly reasonable to Kakashi, more or less. So he let her go.

Of course, Kakashi was not exactly the patron saint of reasonable decisions.

If only he'd known what they were getting into at the time. He wouldn't have let her go, wouldn't have sent her out of the village and into the gaping maw of the beast. But how could he have guessed the magnitude of the issue at the time? That the girl was onto something more sinister than she thought?

When she'd told him all about the screams and the memories and the souls, he'd been new to the job. Kakashi was not Naruto; he had been perfectly fine with the amount of responsibility and acknowledgment he'd already had before all of this hokage nonsense, thank you very much. But it wasn't about that, was it? If the job needed you, it needed you, and you did it.

Kakashi leaned forward and rested his forehead against the cold glass and let his breath fog the window. It had not been a good month - news from outside of Konoha's walls had boded nothing but ill; it left a bitter, coppery taste in his mouth.

But there was something else that had settled like a rock in his stomach.

Somewhere out there, Sakura was upset with him. Probably even hated him. Sasuke was sure to have arrived to the Anbu base by now; they were sure to have come face to face again after all these years. She had made her feelings quite clear to Kakashi many times regarding this subject; absolution would not come easily.

 _Forgive me, Sakura._

It was ten years ago now that his three genin brats had been plunked in his lap – three raw, exposed wires sparking at each other and at the world. Nobody with two brain cells to rub together should have given Kakashi any genin. But especially not those three.

At the time, all he had been able to see in Sakura was the past. She was destined to be the collateral damage in the fallout that would result from the inevitable collision between Sasuke and Naruto. He couldn't train the girl to march out onto the battlefield and end up with Sasuke's arm through her heart like Rin had ended up with Kakashi's.

Well, that hadn't worked out as planned, had it? Not in the slightest.

She'd tried to find her power elsewhere when Kakashi failed to draw it out of her, and she walked right into Tsunade's open arms and all that potential was just thrown away, completely and utterly wasted.

The girl had more cleverness and precision than the elephantine methods that Tsunade had foisted upon her. It was a waste for a girl like that to be reduced to just punching things - or such was the opinion that Kakashi had always privately maintained.

Then five years ago, he got his wish. The war was a little more than a month gone and the bodies were still being tallied, and Sakura had come to his office and asked him to let her run away from it all. Said she wanted to become the sort of indispensable weapon that could go toe to toe with anything and always come out on the other side.

So Kakashi made a plan. All of the things he could have taught her all those years ago - he could give them to her now, make her into the force of nature that he knew she could be. But he couldn't do it himself. He was the hokage, the autocrat of a broken village - he couldn't just up and leave. So he gave the job to Ibiki.

It had taken three years for Kakashi to feel that Sakura had finally reached that potential he had always seen in her. Ibiki had dragged it out of her - Ibiki and Anbu and a training program that Kakashi created himself. It had been a genuinely unpleasant experience to implement, or so Kakashi had been told. He'd had to authorize several infrastructure repair expenditures for the Ice base and promise Ibiki a lush retirement on the coast when it was all said and done, but Ibiki had given Kakashi the exact weapon that he needed to face the coming storm.

And now… the girl was a force to be reckoned with. Not to mention, she was now his _friend_. More than that. They were unhealthily codependent in the worst way - Sakura needed him to enable her avoidance of everything that made her her and Kakashi depended on her right back in ways he couldn't admit to anyone. It was an insidious and sick bond, created out of the sort of shared knowledge that kept them both awake at night, but it was something that Kakashi treasured more than he should have.

Which is why he hated what he had done - sending Sasuke of all people. It was out of necessity, he knew. But she wasn't going to forgive him for it any time soon, even if they all made it out of this mess alive. And that was nearly enough for Kakashi to say damn it all and let the world go up in flames.

But things were deteriorating on Sakura's front. They had been for a while. The situation was quickly becoming far too serious for her to contain on her own, no matter how strictly Kakashi trusted her. To let her continue alone, in light of the newest information, would be risking the fate of humanity. And that would just be a bad time for everyone.

Of much less importance to the general world but of far greater consequence to Kakashi - as irresponsible and private as the sentiment was - it would be risking _her_.

So no, he did not send Sasuke out to the Anbu base just to hurt her. In fact, he'd exhausted all of his other options far past what would be considered responsible leadership to avoid damaging whatever it was they had.

Kakashi sent Sasuke because he was the only one who had the necessary ability to help her see this mission through to the end. He was the only one who had the kind of skills needed to put this demon to rest once and for all, and Kakashi knew that Sakura would see this eventually. It was the only way that they might keep the world from splitting at the seams and swallowing them all whole.

And if Sasuke could bring back a little of what she used to be - and he was the only one who could do that, too - well, that was just fine with Kakashi.

..

..

..

Across the continent, Sakura woke well before sunrise and dressed for her mission in silence, careful that her tired breaths were hushed, that even her footsteps across the floor were inaudible - although she was alone, she was silent with the care of the hunted. She didn't want to risk waking anything, startling another stolen memory to come and take her.

When she was dressed, she extinguished the fire and stepped outside of her cabin - immediately, the frigid wind sent a chill down the open collar of her vest, a reminder that the cold would get her eventually; she zipped the vest up to her chin with numb fingers, and pulled her soft wool gloves over her hands.

Sakura's breath escaped her lungs in opaque puffs, and for a moment, she was a dragon, breathing smoke over an ice kingdom, and she could unfurl her wings and fly away from here, on to the next gold-filled lair and the next conquest, never to return.

But only for a moment, and then she was just a girl again. No smoke, no fire, no wings, just soft and shivering vulnerable flesh and the tired beginnings of a sunrise. She stepped off the tiny porch that was attached to her cabin and out into the still-dark morning, the sky a silken blanket stitched with stars that faded to welcome the dawn.

The first thing she did was to silently slip across the camp to slide an envelope addressed to Kakashi under Yuuto's door - on a small base like this, the medic could be expected to manage the mail as well as the sick and injured. The envelope contained an invective-filled letter, the language included being of the sort that would have driven her mother to tears, if her mother were still alive. Since leaving home, she'd found she had a talent for vicious words - the kind that inflicted pain that she couldn't heal, the kind that made people wish she would just punch them instead. It wasn't something she liked about herself.

In her defense, Kakashi deserved it. As she slipped the letter beneath the crack in the door, she frowned in the general direction of Konoha, hoping her scowl would reach Kakashi in his sleep and give him horrible indigestion for the rest of the day. She exhaled another dragon-puff his way.

 _I'm not a child anymore, Kakashi._

And then she left the base, flitting over the moonlit snow like a ghost, a lonely specter retreating across the horizon.

She would be back in a week.

It would be a violent mission - she didn't know it yet, but it would be a blood-soaked week for her, and one with tragic consequences - ones that would not make themselves immediately apparent, but they were there, following her from a distance, waiting for her to close her eyes.

She would be terrified, unbalanced, and coming apart at the seams by the end of this mission, crouched at the muddy bank of a river and scrubbing the blood out of the creases between her fingers and choking back sobs, pounding her open palms against her forehead to shake the violence from her skull. And then she would pull herself back together, take a deep breath and give herself a stern talking to, and head back to the base. And if she got back and Kakashi told her to turn around and do it again, she would.

A dutiful soldier until the last.

..

..

..

Sasuke didn't see Sakura for a full seven days after their strange, heated conversation after the tattooing ceremony.

This irritated him greatly. The nerve to just up and disappear for five years, show up randomly in the middle of nowhere and do all sorts of confusing shit, just to disappear _again_ \- well, that was just too much.

 _Especially_ since it appeared that he had no chance of getting off of the base without her.

Sasuke quickly learned there was a strict protocol with new recruits and their mentors. The other rookies were evaluated by their mentors within the first two days following the ceremony; generally, evaluations consisted of physical combat. The mentors then recommended their rookies for specific divisions based on the demonstrated skill-set. Sasuke watched all of these skirmishes and decided that the pairings were too well-matched to be truly random; his suspicions were confirmed when Ibiki firmly denied his request to be evaluated by a different operative while waiting for Sakura to return.

 _She's the only one suited to handle you_ , Ibiki had said shortly. _You'll wait for her_. He'd had no sort of answer when Sasuke asked when she might return, other than _soon enough._

And it would be a cold day in hell before he believed that Haruno Sakura was the only person in Anbu who could _handle him_.

Yes, all of this led to a very disgruntled Uchiha.

Not to mention that he'd not expected snow to be quite so... cold. Sasuke had been many places in the world - Orochimaru had dragged him all over the continent and to other places besides - but the man had avoided the snow like the plague, snakelike and cold-blooded as he was. So now Sasuke was bored, confused, and freezing, with nowhere to go and nothing to do.

Such things would turn a man to stomping about grumpily and ineffectually, they would.

It was the morning of his ninth day on the base when he was woken by a sharp rapping on his door.

When he opened it, Ibiki was standing outside, arms crossed. "What, still sleeping?"

"It's ass o'clock in the fucking morning," Sasuke groused in return.

"Early bird gets the worm."

Sasuke grumbled something inappropriate about murdering early birds. Like Kakashi, Ibiki did not mind a few snide remarks here and there; he collected his due in other ways.

Ibiki, used to this sort of behavior, waved Sasuke's irritation away like it was little more than a fly that could not even manage to be a minor annoyance despite its best efforts. "Get dressed. You and I have somewhere to be."

Sasuke's ears perked at the mention of actually having something to do. "What's that?"

"Your mentor is back," Ibiki said shortly. "She's waiting on us both for your evaluation."

* * *

A/N: Ah! I'm so sorry for the delay. It's never intentional. I took a bit of a gallivant about the EU and put all of my duties on hold for such shenanigans. For those of you going "update seek!" you are totally right and I throw myself at your feet to beg for forgiveness! I am updating it but not in the new chapter sense... I'm rewriting a lot of it. Once it's been adequately rehabbed and deemed fit for public presentation then I will begin adding new fixtures and such. It will remain up in the meantime but it's no longer representative of my best work - which is why it's getting the old one-two right now.

As always, I implore you to leave a review - I do so cherish all of your feedback. (unless they only say "update :(" in which case I do not cherish them as much).


	6. Chapter 6

_you return along with the sun_

 _where have you been, darling, what have you done?_

 _you were out finding trouble again_

 _there's fire in your eyes and blood on your hands_

 _Rest awhile, they're coming for you_

 __ _There's a price to be paid for the things that we do_

 _\- lullaby, lord huron_

 **5 years earlier**

 _It was a late night in the Konoha hospital - Sasuke's window was open, allowing a cool breeze into the tiny room. He was lying in bed, surrounded by stiff hospital sheets and stiff hospital air, and Sakura was standing next to him, bent over his arm, squinting at it as if it might start talking. It remained silent, of course, and so did she._

 _But tonight - for once - Sasuke didn't want her to be silent._

 _Maybe it was because she had been promoted to jonin earlier that day and the only reason Sasuke knew was because a nurse had mentioned it in passing, an off-handed remark to the other staff, and Sasuke had only overheard it. He wondered if there had been a ceremony, if her friends had been there, if there was a reason that she had kept it from him. At the end of the war she'd said she loved him - screamed it. Now she hardly spoke to him, flitting in and out of his room every night like a butterfly, never lighting on any surface for too long for fear of what might happen if she was still._

 _Maybe - and neither he nor she had any reason to know this yet - it was because he could sense that she was leaving._

 _Or maybe there was no reason at all, and it was because the sun rose in the east and set in the west, but tonight he didn't want her silence._

" _Sakura," he said stiffly, the word sticking in his throat - not how he meant it. When they were children that's all it had taken to send her tumbling into small talk. A single word from him and the chatter would become never-ending._

" _Hm?" she hummed, distracted. She traced her thumb over the space in Sasuke's new elbow as she squinted at the blue veins visible under the skin. "I think I'm missing some minor vasculature. Does your hand feel cold? Tingly?"_

 _Sasuke shrugged. "Sometimes."_

 _She sighed and sat in the chair next to his bed, her fingers grazing over her own forehead briefly, pushing her hair behind her ears - stress, fatigue, frustration - or that was what the gesture meant when they were children. He didn't know if it meant the same thing now._

" _Can you fix it?" he asked, another trifling attempt at conversation._

 _She glanced up at him, her tired eyes telling him it was a stupid question - of course she could fix it._

 _Maybe the silence they'd shared in the past weeks had not been coming from Sasuke - maybe it had been from her as well, perpetuating the quiet that had settled between them._

 _She began her work, a small crease forming between her eyebrows, and Sasuke knew his time was limited._

 _Soon she would send that overpowering peacefulness crawling through the chakra connection she had formed, and Sasuke would drift to sleep. He'd been wondering where she learned how to do that - to send feelings through chakra._

" _Is it too late?" Sasuke asked, and his voice was more steady than he felt._ Too late _\- too late for him, too late for her, too late for trust or friendship or - or for anything at all._

" _It's never too late," Sakura murmured, but her voice was flat, reflexive, and the words were a meaningless platitude. She wasn't really listening. She was concentrating, and that was something that had initially surprised Sasuke. He'd never much thought of her as being a serious sort of person, but in the past few weeks, he'd found in her a singular focus and peace that was hard to reconcile with the little girl he had known._

 _And slowly, that gentle, somnolent fog began to roll over him, like it did every night, warm and gray and soft… and compulsory. He glanced at her - she did not look at him, but her gaze was too controlled, too purposeful - she was avoiding eye contact, she knew what she was doing. She'd heard him after all, and this was her response._

 _He could have resisted._

 _He didn't._

 **..**

 **..**

 **..**

 **3 months later**

 _It was well past midnight when the door to Kakashi's office burst open rather unceremoniously - at least, it had better be without ceremony, as Kakashi was tired and not feeling up for a party. He did not look up from his book._

" _Where is she?"_

 _Kakashi sighed and put his book down slowly, unwillingly, and looked up at his student standing in the doorway - slightly out of breath, clothes and hair damp from the late night rain that had settled over the village. Kakashi glanced out of the window behind his desk - more than a light rain, now, it was positively pouring. "You're dripping on my floor. Have a seat."_

 _Sasuke rolled his eyes, didn't move. "Like you give a damn about the floor."_

" _But I_ could _give a damn about the floor. Plus, it's not_ my _floor, it's the_ Hokage's _floor. So let's have some decency. Sit."_

" _I don't want to sit," Sasuke snapped._

" _Then at least close the door behind you."_

 _Sasuke slammed the door shut. "Anything else? Do you want me to close the blinds and put on some tea? Or are you going to answer me?"_

 _Kakashi sighed and leaned forward at his desk, pushing his fingertips together. "It's very late, Sasuke. And quite spontaneous, especially for you. You seem upset."_

" _Answer the question. Where is she?"_

" _How are you, Sasuke? Strange of you to visit so suddenly, when I had started to think you'd forgotten me."_

" _I saw you three days ago at lunch. Why are you being so dramatic?"_

" _It suits me," Kakashi shrugged. "And you, as well - clearly, standing here at midnight soaked from the rain like a madman. Great form. I taught you well, obviously."_

 _Sasuke sighed, ran his fingers through his soaking wet hair, visibly doing his best to regain composure as he seemed to realize what he must look like in that moment. He glanced around at the wide, circular office - his earliest memory of the place was unpleasant, to say the least, and did nothing to soothe him. He remembered the old man - the third hokage - telling him that all of the Anbu teams in Konoha couldn't find Itachi, that they were giving up the hunt. In fact, Sasuke did not have a single happy memory in this room. It was a Pandora's box, except that hope had fled first and everything else had stayed behind._

" _Where is she?" he asked again, his voice more steady._

" _Where is who?" Kakashi asked, but the tone of his voice was wrong, the look in his eyes was too innocent, too unconcerned. He knew who._

" _Don't be stupid. Sakura. Where did she go?"_

" _Sit," Kakashi suggested again, this time softer. "It couldn't wait til the morning, huh? She's been gone for three months, you know. Three months, and this is the first time you're asking me."_

 _Sasuke did as he was told this time, dropping into the chair in front of Kakashi's desk._

" _Coffee? Tea? Warm milk in a bottle?"_

" _Just answer the question," Sasuke said, exasperated and frustrated and wet and tired and angry._

" _She's working for the village," Kakashi said simply. "She's working for me. She's fine."_

" _Working for the village," Sasuke repeated._

" _Yes. I thought she'd be home by now, to be fair, but it's been a valuable arrangement. She's doing good work."_

" _Should someone go_ get _her?" Sasuke asked helplessly, and Kakashi almost felt sorry for the boy. There was something there after all._

" _If she wanted to come home, then she would come home," Kakashi said gently. "She's staying where she is because she wants to, not because I told her to."_

" _Then where is she?"_

" _I can't tell you."_

" _Can't or won't?"_

" _Both. She's doing what everyone else is doing - keeping the village safe. There's bigger things out there than even you can guess. That's really all I can share, Sasuke. It's classified. But she's fine, she's still out there. Now let me ask you something. Quid pro quo."_

 _Sasuke crossed his arms over his chest. "What?"_

" _Why now? Why three months after she left? Did it take you that long to notice she was gone?"_

" _Of course not," Sasuke grumbled. "I just wanted to know."_

" _At midnight? Such a strong interest that it couldn't wait until the morning? Nothing more than curiosity? You're a shit liar. Always have been."_

 _Sasuke stood abruptly, the chair screeching unpleasantly across the stone floor._

" _You can say it, you know. It's not a weakness," Kakashi said casually._

" _There's nothing to say," Sasuke snapped, and stormed out of Kakashi's office and back toward his restless, sleepless, lonely bed._ _He didn't notice the storm._

..

..

..

The morning had not been easy for Sakura. She'd stumbled onto the base in the deathly quiet early morning hours - when the night was at its coldest and dawn was still somewhere far beyond the horizon and the only sound was the distressed howl of the wind. The mission was still a fresh wound, crusted around the edges with the blood of those who would do her harm; friends or enemies, heroes or villains, it had all become very gray to Sakura, who had been outnumbered by her nightmares long ago.

She was surprised to see that Ibiki was waiting for her outside of her cabin, taking meager shelter from the icy wind on her cement porch. But she didn't ask questions. She'd collapsed into his open arms, tears freezing on her cheeks before they could land on the thick wool of his black cloak. He'd smoothed her hair, murmured words of home and gratitude for her safe return, and then gruffly advised her to get her shit more or less together because they had work to do. Inside of her cabin, she lit the wood stove and told him what she'd seen and done, and he told her the updates that Kakashi had sent in her absence.

In the end, they both sat together in stunned silence at the rickety little table in her cabin, with nothing but the crackle of burning logs to punctuate the air while they each became lost in their thoughts. The very first rays of dawn began to turn the sky a gentle periwinkle before either of them moved.

"It's going to be okay, kid. It's not your fault," Ibiki said, and reached for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

He didn't take his gloves off when he touched her hand, and Sakura hated this. She knew why - she knew why no one could touch her, but she craved the sort of contact that didn't end in her killing someone, the kind that came from a friend.

"I was too late," she whispered. "They were all dead by the time I got there. And I… I couldn't save the ones that did it. I had to kill them. They weren't going back."

"All we can do is move forward. Kakashi's got a plan."

"Which way is forward?" Sakura said, pulling her hand away. "We're absolutely fucked, Morino. After what you just told me we might as well just lie down and wait for them to come for us."

Suddenly, Ibiki pushed away from the table, standing. "Well, it's time for your rookie's evaluation. So why don't we start there."

"Are you serious? After everything I just told you and what you just told me? You want me to go see _him_?"

"The world spins on, Haruno. You're not going anywhere until that's done. He scares the locals, you know? His hair is very pointy."

"There are no locals," Sakura snapped.

"Just me, then, and that's good enough for you because I'm your commander."

"Kakashi is my commander," she replied petulantly.

"Kakashi is your hokage and he's even more invested in this happening than I am. Keeps asking if you've gotten it over with yet. And he's got something he wants you to know, so get your ass dressed for a fight and I'll go get your rookie. I'll meet you at the north snowfield in twenty minutes. And Kou is going to be looking for you."

"He's back?" Sakura asked, perking up.

"Unfortunately."

 **..**

 **..**

 **..**

After Ibiki had knocked on his door and told him Sakura was back, Sasuke had dressed within minutes, and opened his door once again to find that Ibiki was still waiting for him.

They crossed most of the base in silence; Sasuke because he had nothing to say, and Ibiki because he was rather cross with the cold. The dawn had been a magnificent one, setting the snowfield aglitter, enrobing the camp in velvety pinks and gentle blues; they had passed several operatives tiredly making their ways to the mess hall for breakfast.

"I sent her to the far edge of the camp for the evaluation. Away from the buildings," Ibiki grumbled as their walk began to extend past the outposts. "She's a death sentence for concrete structures."

"I remember," Sasuke said simply, because he did.

"Worth mentioning, the point of the evaluation is not for you to defeat your mentor or vice versa. The point of the evaluation is for her to have you showcase your skills in a high-pressure situation. Neither of you should be going for the throat."

"But-"

"If I feel that you are going for the throat, I will have you drawn and quartered and sent home as jerky. "

"And if she's the one going for the throat?" Sasuke grumbled - he wouldn't put it past her, the way she had acted in their brief interaction the night of the tattooing ceremony.

"Then pay close attention. It's an interesting experience."

Sasuke did not have the chance to ask Ibiki how he knew that - if maybe he'd been on the receiving end - because at that moment a small crowd became visible in the distance: Sakura, obvious by her head of pink hair, and another person, tall and brown-haired and gesticulating wildly for no apparent reason, and a small audience standing several feet away from her.

"There she is." Ibiki pointed to the group.

"Who's she with?" Sasuke asked, squinting; evaluations were supposed to be one-on-one.

"You draw a crowd, Uchiha. You and her both. Lot of operatives put good money on the outcome of this evaluation."

"Who's that she's talking to?" Sasuke asked casually - but he didn't feel casual. There was a familiarity to the distance between the pair, the way she so easily turned toward him and the carelessness of his smile.

"Kodama Kou. He was in her rookie class and they were partnered up for a while before she was solo detail only. He's about as much a pain in my ass as the two of you are, which is quite an achievement, but he's kept her from going off the deep end and he puts up a mean fight when you need him to so I keep him here. _He_ was going to be your mentor, actually, if she really put up a fight about keeping you around."

Sasuke scoffed. "That wasn't putting up a fight?"

"Hardly. If it was really non-negotiable she would have put this whole place in the ground and me with it, and I would have sent you packing before it came to that because I want to go home someday. But the hokage thinks that having you here is somehow in her best interest, and he's just about the only person she'll listen to, so here you are."

"That's… reassuring," Sasuke grumbled. He would certainly not consider himself to be in anyone's best interest, and did not appreciate the insinuation that he was only here on Sakura's good graces and for her benefit.

"I assure you that it is not," Ibiki said. "For reasons that I assume I will need to share with you in short order, but I don't have to yet, so I won't. At any rate, let's get a move on."

Sasuke turned his attention to the horizon, where Sakura and the man were still too far away for their voices to be heard. It was strange to see her interact with someone else so easily after seeing how stiff she had been with him only a week ago. She carelessly shoved her hands into her pockets, looked up at the sky and squinted at the clouds - she said something, and the man shook his head, pointing at the mountains in the distance. She laughed, and Sasuke could very nearly hear it, although he was too far away for the sound to reach his ears.

 _Kept her from going off the deep end._ Sasuke had some experience with the deep end himself, but he'd pushed away everyone who might have dragged him out of it.

Sasuke decided that he didn't like Kodama Kou.

"He's got his own rookie who should be around here somewhere. Kou keeps burying him in the snow. Come on, you moron, let's go get this godforsaken evaluation over with."

Sasuke followed as Ibiki trudged across the snowfield; even his walk was rather grumpy.

It was the man with Sakura who noticed the pair first - he pointed at them, murmured something to her; the sound was deadened by the snow, although the distance had been mostly closed. She stiffened as they drew closer, and the smile slid off of her face, like she had just remembered how cold it really was outside.

"Where is your rookie, Kodama?" Ibiki barked, as soon as they were within hearing distance.

"It's a mystery," the man said, grinning. "Slippery things, rookies. Always gettin' away from ya."

Ibiki stopped a few feet away from him, hands on his hips and a frown on his face. "Haruno, shed some light on the mystery for me."

"Kou sent his rookie to get muffins from the mess hall, commander. Five minutes ago," Sakura said; her voice was brisk, business-like, but her eyes betrayed soft mischief.

"Rookies are not for retrieving your breakfast, operative!" Ibiki snapped at Kou.

"He's a bad mentor," Sakura said sagely. "Send him away."

She wore a sense of humor as if it was something she had always had, Sasuke noted, and maybe it was; maybe it was something she'd just never shared it with him. Ibiki grunted something that sounded like agreement before jutting a thumb in Sasuke's direction. "Look, I brought your rookie. Say good morning."

"Kodama Kou," the man said with a wolfish grin on his face, sticking his hand out to Sasuke. "No need for you to introduce yourself, Uchiha, I've heard all about you."

"You shut up," Ibiki barked. "Nobody was talking to you. Go find your damned rookie and make sure he's got muffins for all of us if he's got any at all. Haruno, say good morning to your rookie, and do it _nicely."_

"Good morning, Sasuke," Sakura said obediently, her voice soft, but her eyes guarded and cautious.

"Good morning," Sasuke returned stiffly - the last week had been spent dwelling on the way she'd tried to have him sent back to Konoha on his first night here, and he'd decided he wasn't going to be taking it well.

Ibiki sighed. "Oh, for christ's sake. The two of you are peas in a goddamn pod, and I want you to understand that I mean that in the worst possible way. Let's get this over with. And Kodama, _go get your rookie._ "

"Yep yep," Kou said cheerfully, and clapped a hand on Sakura's shoulder. His fingers lingered overlong before he pulled away. "Be right back, ladies."

Sasuke was decidedly not sad to see him go.

Ibiki watched as Kou walked away, frowning after him. "Well, now that there is one less idiot in my presence, let's not waste any more time. I don't want this to last more than ten minutes, and I want a _civil_ display of skills that you think are most useful to you as an Anbu operative. Not your most deadly, not your most technical, but your most _useful._ Haruno, do what you need to do, but do _not_ destroy my base. Not again."

Sakura nodded. "Yes, commander."

"Uchiha, the same goes for you. Infrastructure damage comes out of your paycheck, as she will confirm for you from her own experience. Am I understood?"

"Yes, commander."

"Then you take fifty steps back," Ibiki directed Sasuke. "And you wait for my signal to start."

Ibiki watched the Uchiha boy walk away - the boy was his father incarnate when he moved, and Ibiki had known Fugaku well enough for the similarities to send a shiver down his spine. It would be a cold day in hell before he could trust an Uchiha again.

When the boy stopped at exactly fifty paces back, Ibiki turned to Sakura as she was taking her gloves off.

"Show him what you're made of, kid," Ibiki murmured, clapping a hand on Sakura's shoulder.

"He's not the enemy, Morino," Sakura replied softly as she set her gloves down in the snow, her fingers stinging in the cold air.

Ibiki shrugged, unconvinced. "Depends on what the fight is."

Sakura sighed. "You're impossible. Don't let it go too long."

"Ten minutes," Ibiki vowed.

Sakura was silent. A lifetime could happen in ten minutes. Multiple lifetimes. Mistakes could be made in ten minutes that would take years to undo; no, Sasuke was not the enemy. The anger she felt was just an old trick of a tired and injured heart that was recoiling at the prodding of old wounds. Wasn't it?

Across the clearing, Sasuke was equally silent, watching Sakura and Ibiki talk quietly; he could only guess what they were saying, but he didn't imagine it was anything particularly nice. It didn't matter. He was used to people muttering contempt in his direction.

She was watching him with a look on her face that was almost sad, and for some reason, that irritated him. He didn't know what to expect, but Sakura was Sakura - power had an intrinsic limit, and hers could not have been that much further beyond the rock-smashing she'd been up to five years ago.

Ibiki stepped away from her and raised his voice so that Sasuke could hear him. "Once I'm out of your way, you can start whenever you're ready."

He moved away from the center of the clearing and towards the outer edges; out of the corner of his eye Sasuke saw that Kou, had returned with a rookie in tow - the rookie struggling to balance at least eight muffins in his arms while Kou, hands in his pockets, did nothing to help - but that detail was hardly worth noticing now.

Sakura studied him carefully, as still and watchful as a doe in an open field, her viridian eyes tracking his slightest movements. The slight rise and fall of his chest, the involuntary twitch of a finger, the rustling of hair by the wind - each cataloged silently but noticeably with rapid flicks of her irises, deceptively cervine.

Sasuke noted there was nothing like fear in her eyes, none of that prey-like disquiet that he'd come to expect in his opponents. The last time he'd seen her a week ago, those eyes had been aflame with anger, and the time before that, five years earlier, they had been drowning in a listless post-war fatigue. Today they were clear and sharp and unnerving. For a long moment, neither moved, each waiting for the other.

And then Sakura felt it: the battle calm. The crystalline quiet, the serenity of impending violence and a future of nothing but the fight.

And then the tension snapped like a twig, and he was gone, and in a nanosecond, he was by her side.

She had forgotten how graceful he was, how deliberate and effortless he made everything seem - once upon a time it had been irresistible; now it was just a reminder of the danger that he had always presented, a snake in the grass.

He attacked with every movement, and she had no choice but to remain on the defensive. She was fast enough, but just barely, and only for as long as he was being conservative in his offense - he could tell by the way that she was only just able to block each of his blows, each of her reactions just a hair too slow for comfort.

But she had prepared for this. She'd known he would rely on the Rinnegan's dimensional travel; it was predictable, but predictable didn't mean weak, predictable didn't mean that she could counter it. He wasn't aiming to kill, not this time, and he wasn't a killer anyway, not really, and Sakura knew that. She also knew that she had to keep her cards close to the chest - between the Rinnegan and the Sharingan, she would only have a few milliseconds for her plan to work.

Ibiki watched the fight from the very edges of the clearing, surrounded by the operatives who had gathered to watch the fight. He had to be careful here - he could not showcase his obvious favoritism, but he felt very fiercely at the moment that he'd rather like to thwack the Uchiha with a good, weighty stick. And then he'd like to set that stick on Kakashi, just for good measure.

Sakura had met the Uchiha in the middle of the field, but not by choice; the boy flickered from one place to another, folding in and out of the planes of this dimension only to appear again milliseconds later right in front of her, or behind her, or right in her blind spot. A sudden and delicate flurry of knives, as graceful and deadly as a blizzard, erupted before Ibiki's eyes. Just regular kunai, short black iron blades, in each of their hands, quick and biting. The boy was fast and cunning as a devil, and she was sorely outmatched at the outset - the speed of the Uchiha was unnatural and unmatched, she knew that.

 _What are you doing, kid?_ Ibiki squinted. Why let him put her at a disadvantage right at the start? She should have made the first move. Ibiki could think of five ways that she could beat the boy within minutes. And another ten ways that the boy could demolish her within seconds. _I taught you better than that._

 _But it's personal, isn't it?_

A thin line of blood blossomed on her cheek as the tip of his knife glided across her skin - a momentary touch and minimal physical damage, but the first contact nearly always belonged to the victor in things like this. The cut healed immediately, skin knitting together unconsciously, but Ibiki bit the inside of his lip, frowning. She should have started the fight at a distance and directed it from there. Instead, she let him corner her.

As the seconds dragged on, the operatives watching the fight began to fidget and whisper - nobody had come to watch a civilian knife fight. They'd wanted black flames and shattered earth, the ancient Uchiha power and the uniquely brutal pinpoint techniques that Kakashi had developed especially for Sakura (specifically tailored to be effective against Uchiha, Ibiki had long suspected).

They had not gathered to watch a quiet struggle for dominance between two wounded animals. What was unfolding before them felt undeniably primal, vicious in a way that should have remained private.

The Uchiha was cruel and forceful, methodical - he would never slip up, never do anything other than exactly as he intended to do it _._ Sakura was unafraid and lithe, and the whole thing was burning with frantic anger. They were furious with each other - _likely for the same reasons,_ Ibiki thought - and each wanted to hurt the other with their own hands, even when more effective methods were available. _Some evaluation. This is useless._

A gentle nudge against his shoulder broke his concentration. Kou was standing by his side, arms crossed and eyes watching the fight.

"She's about to do it," he murmured.

"You shut up unless I ask you to speak," Ibiki muttered in return. He didn't need another idiot telling him what he already knew. Of course she was; he could read her like she was his own mind.

She had Kakashi written all over her now. The way she fought, the way she analyzed her opponent's movements, even the look in her eyes; she was his man through and through, as they said in the force, and it was obvious. Tsunade was gone from the girl; gone in her temper, gone in her crushing strength, gone in her voice.

Tsunade's training had been completely cleansed, except for one thing: the small lavender diamond on the girl's forehead, a permanent, delicate marking of the energy hidden in spades behind it. Although that was different too, now, in that it wasn't alone. Sakura had two more of those seals hidden away - in her _cubital fossa,_ she always called them, but Ibiki just said _inner elbows_ because he wasn't a precocious brat who didn't know how many books were _too_ many books.

Only twice was she left in a position from which she was able to counterattack and deliver a blow. Twice, she struck. One to the temple - the right temple - and one under the left arm. Each blow should have been fatal, but neither was, for she left nothing behind but the softest of touches on the Uchiha's skin. The mumbling from the crowd grew into mutters - she was nothing but a myth, after all, then, the operatives whispered to each other.

Ibiki smiled as the fight wore on.

She made the third and last contact against the Uchiha's left cheek as his knife slid across her hip, opening the skin and slicing through the muscle – red blood dripped onto the snow, the heat tunneling into the ice and sending gossamer filaments of steam into the air.

The wound did not linger – it began to knit itself together immediately as she jumped back to replace the lost distance between their bodies.

 _Why aren't you fighting back?_ Sasuke thought - she was on the defensive, but just barely, only just evading his attacks. Every time she looked like she might make a move, she pulled back at the last second.

And then he saw it.

Three angry, swirling, colossal oceans of chakra - _fuck._ She had more than one now, more than the single store controlled by the seal on her forehead. Now there were three, and much, much more vast than he'd remembered. He didn't stop to think why he hadn't seen them sooner, why his sharingan had only just now revealed them to him.

Because they were pointed at him like cannons.

The ringing in his ears started at the same moment that he unleashed a terrifying amount of blue lightning from his fingertips and blasted her away from him, sending her flying across the snow, where she landed, to his surprise, on her feet. It had been a haphazard move but his instincts told him that he needed to get her far away from him. Faint tendrils of smoke floated up from her clothes, and she was breathing hard, each breath sending opaque clouds into the air, but she was standing.

And smiling.

The ringing got louder.

And then he went blind.

 **end chapter 6**

 **A/N:** hey friends. long time no talk - i missed you all dearly and loved hearing from you while I was writing instead of posting. I hope you enjoy this chapter that was several months in the making (I really did work on it most weekends) and are able to suspend disbelief long enough to get to the next chapter, where all of Sakura's new powers/mechanisms as well as the villain will be revealed. As always, I love your comments and they are the currency that I exchange for further motivation continue writing :) I also love your private messages about your lives, yourselves, whatever. It's just nice to talk to you guys. If you have any ideas on the plot, or things you think should happen or would like to see, drop me a line - there's no bad ideas in fan fiction.

I hope you guys are staying safe out there, washing your hands, and exercising your civic duties - whatever they are, wherever you are.


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